


I Hate You

by Frogster



Series: I Hate You [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, F/M, Frenemies, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hate to Love, Hogwarts years, Humor, I HATE YOU, Multichapter, Sweet and Sour Scorpius, Witty!Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frogster/pseuds/Frogster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose and Scorpius' years at Hogwarts through the evolution of a phrase.<br/>"Scorpius most often heard the words "I hate you" coming from the snappish mouth of Rose Weasley, the witty, intelligent, short-tempered daughter of two-thirds of the Golden Trio."<br/>""I hate you."<br/>It was the first time that Rose told Scorpius that she hated him, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last."<br/>Lots of banter, some fluff. Eventual Rose/Scorpius. T for later chapters. Bonus Chapter: in which there is lots of fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in which they meet

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first installment of my new multichapter, "I Hate You." For those of you who have read "prefects and prats," that story fits into this timeline during Rose and Scorpius' fifth year. (If you haven't read it yet, go check it out!) This story will have ten or eleven chapters when it's finished--one chapter per year for the first four years and two chapters a piece for the next three. There will also be a bonus chapter as well.
> 
> Thanks bunches to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus for their ongoing support.
> 
> Without further ado:

  
Chapter 1: First Year

_:in which they meet:_

“I hate you.”

Scorpius Malfoy had heard that phrase many times during his years at Hogwarts.

It was not so much to do with his family’s past—although there were still people who equated the Malfoys with their history during the Second Wizarding War, their numbers were dwindling as the years went by. While Lucius had remained as prejudiced as ever, Draco had actually striven since the end of the war to redeem the Malfoy name. He still maintained some of his arrogance and most of his aloofness, but thanks to the influence of his wife, he was determined to raise his son better.

No, Scorpius most often heard the words “I hate you” coming from the snappish mouth of Rose Weasley, the witty, intelligent, short-tempered daughter of two-thirds of the Golden Trio and cousin to Albus Potter, son of Harry Potter and best friend to Scorpius.

Albus and Scorpius had become friends on the first train ride to Hogwarts after Scorpius had ended up sitting in a compartment with Albus and Rose. Albus had wanted to distance himself from his brother James, who was apparently planning to set off Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products on the train.

“But you don’t have a problem getting into trouble, Al, so why don’t you want to sit with the rest of our family?” Rose had asked while the two were searching for a compartment.

“Because I don’t want people realizing that James is my brother right away. I get enough of him at home. I don’t want to be used as a guinea pig for new products for hours on end. Besides, do you really want to be crammed into a small compartment with all of our cousins for most of the day?” Albus had answered, entering a compartment.  
Soon after, Scorpius had entered, asking if he could sit with them because everywhere else was full. Rose had immediately snurled her nose at him. “You’re that Malfoy boy. My father warned me about you.”

“My father mentioned you two as well. However, there is nowhere else to sit, else I wouldn’t be here.”

Albus, remembering his manners, introduced himself, and Rose quickly chimed in with her name and a huff before turning to a large copy of Hogwarts: A Revised History. Scorpius told them his first name and settled down in the seat across from the cousins.

After getting over their initial trepidation, the two boys had struck up a conversation about Quidditch. Rose was too engrossed in her book to pay much attention until Scorpius had inadvertently insulted her (and her dad’s) favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. Even at eleven, Rose was fiercely loyal to her family, and regarded any perceived insult or slight against them as grounds for a fight.

Thus, she had started bickering with Scorpius over the merits of Quidditch teams. While normally cool and collected, Scorpius had quickly sized Rose up as a real challenge—not many people had the nerve to call out the Malfoys, at least to their faces. Their banter escalated until Scorpius started making comments about the enormous tome in Rose’s hands, now almost forgotten.

“You know,” he said, the beginnings of a smirk rising on his face, “that book’s so huge you could use it as a bludger—if you could even hit it hard enough to be used as one.”

As insults went, it was pretty tame, but Rose’s temper had been escalating throughout their exchange. Scorpius’ last comment—perceived as both an attack on her size and an affront to one of her beloved books—snapped the last of her control.

She glared at him, looking much like her mother, and muttered, “I hate you.” Then she bonked him on the head with the book/bludger and returned to reading.

It was the first time that Rose told Scorpius that she hated him, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

******

Throughout their first year, Scorpius continued to tease and bicker with Rose, and she gave as good as she got. Since both first years were best friends with Al, they were often thrown together. Scorpius and Al had both been sorted into Slytherin and Rose, despite her intelligence and love of knowledge, had, like her mother, been sorted into Gryffindor. Since house relationships were much better than when their parents had attended Hogwarts—though by no means were they perfect—Scorpius and Al usually joined the rest of the Weasley-Potter clan at the Gryffindor table.

Mealtimes were a frequent breeding ground for arguments between Rose and Scorpius. They debated over books, music, Quidditch, the merits of certain class. In some areas, they had similar tastes, but any difference of opinion was sure to spark a heated discussion.

Of course, Rose and Scorpius challenged each other academically as well. Rose had certainly inherited her mother’s brains, as her father had proclaimed on the platform, but Scorpius was no slouch. Both first years had their strong suits—Rose in History of Magic and Charms and Scorpius in Potions and, surprisingly, Herbology—but were evenly matched in the others. They both made it their goal to beat the other as often as possible.

Even the teachers could get fed up with Rose and Scorpius' rivalry:

 

"Miss Weasley, would you let someone else answer for a change?"

 

Scorpius smirked, raising his hand higher.

 

"Same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy. You and Miss Weasley are not the only ones in this class. Let the others have a turn."

 

Rose just stuck her tongue out at a disgruntled Scorpius.

******

Scorpius, for his part, got along well with the rest of the Weasley-Potter clan, save Rose. While Scorpius was closest to Al, James and Fred—after subjecting Scorpius to various Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products and being surprised when the eleven-year-old schemed to get them back—had deemed him a good bloke, and the rest of the various Weasley-Potters followed suit, seeming to enjoy his company, if not simply tolerating it.

Rose remained the only one hostile to Scorpius, despite Al’s attempts to make them get along. It didn’t help that Scorpius baited Rose every chance he got, usually about her bushy hair or lack of height. Scorpius once made the mistake of asking Rose, upon seeing her with a huge stack of books almost as big as she was, if she was collecting enough books to make a tower high enough for her to see over the tables in class. Rose had shot a few well-placed jinxes in his direction, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to needle her.

Towards the end of their first year, Rose, who apparently needed a break from her large family and also wanted to study, tended to hole up in the library for hours on end. Scorpius found her there one day, scribbling furiously while writing a final paper.

“Weasley, you might as well just buy a tent and pitch it down here, since you seem to think that books are good company.”

“They’re better than the present company,” Rose replied, not looking up from her paper.

“But books don’t talk back—I do.”

“Exactly,” Rose said shortly.

“Don’t tell me that you’re desperate enough to start talking to books. I knew you were crazy, Weasley, but I didn’t think you were that crazy.”

“I’m not. I simply need to get some studying done—and I needed to get away from my family. I can’t get any thinking done when all of them are hanging out in the common room, much less studying.”

“Thinking? Don’t hurt yourself, there, Weasley.”

“Malfoy, I have better grades than you and you know it.”

“What about in Potions?”

“You may have me there—but my overall grade average is higher than yours.”

He slapped his hands down on the desk next to her parchment, knocking her bottle of ink over, causing it to spill all over her parchment. She snapped.

“Look at what you’ve done! You’ve ruined my essay! I’m going to have to copy it out all over again because you just can’t leave well enough alone! Do you know how long it’s taken me to write this? Much too long for you to just ruin it in a matter of seconds! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to sabotage my work!”

“Now why would I do such a thing, Weasley? You’re the only real competition I have. Making top grades isn’t as fun if I just beat everyone outright.”

“Because you’re you,” she sneered. “You make it a point to make me miserable.”

“Not my fault you rise to the occasion,” he answered, only half paying attention because he’d caught sight of something on the desk that was sure to make Rose even angrier—and because he couldn’t resist the opportunity to push her buttons some more, he pointed it out to her.

“Say, Weasley, what’s the librarian going to say when she discovers that you’ve gotten ink all over the table?”

Rose quickly glanced at the table, seeing the growing puddle of ink slowly spreading across the parchment and dribbling onto the table. She turned back to look at him, blue eyes flashing. “It wasn’t my fault,” she snapped. “It was yours—if you weren’t so keen to pick a fight with me all the time, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Ah, but you fought back.”

At that, Rose grabbed the bottle of ink and threw the remaining contents in Scorpius’ face. “I hate you,” she said, gathering her ruined parchment and bag and storming out of the library.

******

Al, along with Rose’s other best friend Alice Longbottom, had managed to smooth Rose’s ruffled feathers enough that when Scorpius came offering a truce for the duration of finals, Rose accepted—provided Scorpius sat at the other end of the table, far away from her parchment and ink. They managed to get through finals without any incidents, proving that the two could work together when they put their minds to it.

By the end of their first year, most of Hogwarts was aware that the quarrels between Rose and Scorpius would become a constant in their lives. Rose could never back down from a challenge, and Scorpius certainly challenged her more than anyone else ever had—or would in the years to come.


	2. in which Rose is attacked by a Scorpius-summoned swarm of birds

Chapter 2: Second Year

 

_:in which Rose is attacked by a Scorpius-summoned swarm of birds and Al is no help at all:_

 

Second year went by in much the same manner as the first. Scorpius continued to mess with Rose every chance he got and Rose retaliated with a growing arsenal of hexes and jinxes. Rose and Al’s cousin Louis started Hogwarts and became the third Weasley-Potter to be sorted outside of Gryffindor, joining Molly in Ravenclaw. That left Lily, Hugo, and Lucy as the only members of the family who had not yet come to Hogwarts.

Rose and Scorpius continued their battle of wits inside the classroom as well. Poor Al was frequently stuck sitting between the two in classes, where they competed to be the first to answer any questions. Rose had not made Gryffindor’s Quidditch team, but was determined to secure a spot the following year, as both Al and Scorpius had been selected for Slytherin’s team—and she wouldn’t be denied the opportunity to best Scorpius in yet another area.

They continued to debate throughout mealtimes. Sometimes Rose would sit at the other end of the table with Alice Longbottom, her closest friend besides Al, but whenever Scorpius was sitting nearby, an argument was bound to ensue:

"Do you really think this is music?" Scorpius asked Rose, who had come to dinner singing along to Top 40 music on her WizardPod. With all the technology that had been developed in the past twenty years since their parents’ school days, a spell had been created to allow small devices such as cell phones and music players to work on Hogwarts grounds, although larger technological advances such as laptops and computers still could not function correctly.

"Well, it has a beat, and words, and a melody...so yes," replied Rose, shutting off her music player and putting it back in her bag.

"But this is pop music! No substance!"

"Says the boy who thinks that the Weird Sisters are the greatest thing since Quidditch."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, I like the Weird Sisters too. They're timeless. But did it ever occur to you that they were immensely popular back in their day? Popular...pop music."

Scorpius snorted. "Well at least the Weird Sisters have more talent in one of their fingernails than those artists you're always listening to on your little machine."

"Plenty of current singers have talent. Many don't, it's true, but you have to know how to weed out the bad from the good instead of painting them all with the same brush." Rose huffed. "And it's called a WizardPod. Just like the Muggle iPod, but adapted for wizarding use. You’d know about these types of things if you would take a Muggle Studies class, Malfoy."

"I like plenty of Muggle bands, Weasley."

"Yeah, bands that were around in your father's day."

"Don't diss the classics, Weasley."

"Some of the classics are fine. Others should have stayed back in the last century."

"At least they had better music back then."

"At least I can admit to liking some of the older bands like The Beatles, Muse, artists like that. You won't even admit that some pop songs are cool. At least I enjoy different kinds of music."

"Oh, so if someone looked at your little machine, would Celestina Warbeck be on there? Are you going to start singing her songs in the Great Hall all of a sudden?"

Rose frowned, knowing that Scorpius' devious mind was busy plotting a way to hex her into belting out a Warbeck song at dinner. "You wouldn't dare," she sneered.

"Watch me," Scorpius said.

True to his word, Scorpius did hex Rose into singing a Warbeck song at dinner a couple of days later. Rose, however, had to get the last note--after storming up to Scorpius, who was about to fall off the bench from laughing so hard, and declaring that she hated him, Rose promptly struck him with a hex of her own into singing an equally embarrassing song: “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. Scorpius’ facial expressions as he belted out the song were hysterical, and Rose watched with a smug grin plastered on her face. James and Fred were immensely proud of their younger cousin’s initiative, but Molly Weasley, who was undoubtedly becoming her father’s daughter, wrote home about the incident, causing Rose to receive a plea from her mother to not react so violently to Scorpius’ pranks. Ron, however, had sent a note of his own, congratulating Rose on getting the best of the “son of the ferret.”

******

Their second year flew by fast and soon enough it was nearing finals time. Al and Scorpius had settled under a tree one day about a month before the end of term, taking advantage of the warm weather. The boys were firming up summer plans—Scorpius had convinced his parents to let him stay at the Burrow for a couple of weeks. Al had insisted on waiting for Rose, who was trying to get in as much last-minute studying as possible, before talking about all the things they could do around the Burrow during Scorpius’ stay. Scorpius wasn’t so sure that Rose would want to spend any amount of time with him—she’d made it clear before Christmas that she thought that the holidays were supposed to be a reprieve from him—but he was determined to annoy her as often as he could.

Al was describing the lake close to the Burrow where the Weasley-Potters spent most of their waking hours during the summer when Scorpius spotted Rose. He had been thinking of various ways to irritate her while staying with the Potters, while Al had been talking, and he figured, why not start now?

Catching sight of a group of birds scattered around the lake, he got an idea. Smirking, Scorpius waited until Rose was in better view—he didn’t want to miss the look on her face—and swept his wand while muttering a spell. Instantly, the birds Scorpius had noticed launched into the air, flying straight for Rose. She was unaware that anything was amiss until the birds started landing on her, pecking at her arms and settling into her wild hair.

Rose started and began slapping and tugging at the birds, but even if she did dislodge one, it came flying right back. Rose looked as if she was doing a crazy rain dance, her legs stomping in frustration, arms waving spastically, face getting redder by the minute.

Scorpius, amused and pleased that his spell had worked so well, was in stitches. Al, noticing that his friend was doubled over in laughter, raised an eyebrow and then turned to see what Scorpius was pointing at. Al felt sorry for his favorite cousin—she had attracted the attention of most of the students who were outside, and probably a few who were inside as well—but he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Rose was certainly a sight.

Rose, meanwhile, had finally given up trying to get rid of the birds and looked around for the culprit, although she already knew who it was. Spotting Scorpius—who was on the verge of tears, he was laughing so hard—and Al, Rose gathered up what dignity she had left and marched over to them.

“Malfoy.” she spat, not even sparing a glance at Al. “This has your name written all over it.”

Scorpius stopped laughing and grinned at her cheekily. “Found some new friends, have you, Weasley?”

Rose growled. “Still haven’t found anyone else to antagonize?”

“Of course not,” he answered smoothly. “Where would be the fun in that?”

She was clenching her fists, looking hard-pressed not to punch him. He pressed on. “You know, Weasley,” he began, “I would think that you would be glad to do your part around here when it comes to helping fellow creatures. You see, I saw this group of birds—” he gestured to the creatures still perched in her mass of hair—“and I thought they might need somewhere to roost. And what better place to make a nest than in that bush you call hair? It already looks the part. Ready to rent.”

By now, Rose was fuming. Standing toe-to-toe in front of Scorpius, she glared down at him, hands on her hips. “Why don’t you do a favor to all creatures here at Hogwarts—human or otherwise—and let me feed you to the giant squid, Malfoy?”

He laughed, which only seemed to make her angrier. “You wouldn’t do that, Weasley. Not only would it spoil your chances of making prefect in a few years, but you’d miss me too much.”

“Like I’d ever miss you,” she sneered, eyes flashing. She waved her arms, trying to dislodge the birds again—they were weighing her down—and Scorpius was about to make a comment about her flying away when Rose caught sight of her watch. “Time for dinner,” she huffed. “Malfoy, get rid of these infernal birds or Merlin help me I’ll punch you so hard you won’t be able to see for the next Quidditch match.”

Scorpius sighed. He wanted dinner, and he wanted to whip Hufflepuff at the upcoming game. Resigned, he waved his wand and muttered again, and the birds flew away. Rose immediately pulled Al up and started heading towards the castle, griping about his choice of friends the whole way. Scorpius couldn’t resist making one more crack at her.

“Oi, Weasley! Can we start calling you birdbrain now?”

Rose’s head whipped around, hair flying. She looked like she was about to hex him, but Al restrained her—just barely. Rose settled for a glare that would rival a basilisk’s and grumbled a phrase that was becoming as familiar to Scorpius as his own name—

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Next chapter: :in which Rose is injured during Quidditch:


	3. in which Rose is injured during Quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus for betaing, especially sirenofodysseus, who pointed me in the right direction when it came to figuring out how to write a Quidditch game. I just hope I did it justice.

Chapter 3: Third Year

  
_:in which Rose is injured during Quidditch:_

 

Third year brought new classes and trips to Hogsmeade for Rose, Al, and Scorpius, but most everything else remained the same. Lily and Hugo had begun their years at Hogwarts, both being sorted into Gryffindor. To Rose’s chagrin, Hugo immediately befriended Scorpius and spent much of his free time hanging out with Al and Scorpius—and often Rose, whose love for her cousin usually trumped her annoyance at the young Malfoy.

Rose and Scorpius argued so frequently that Al’s go-to prediction in Divination became “Rosie and Scorp are going to fight today.” That prediction never failed—and it was used often enough for Al’s grade to go up an entire level.

Aside from Divination, the one new class that Rose, Al, and Scorpius all had together was Care of Magical Creatures. Rose and Scorpius had both decided to take Ancient Runes, but Al steered clear of that subject—partly because he saw no need to take it and partly because he didn’t want to be subjected to the increase in arguments such an intense class was bound to provoke between his two best friends.

Rose and Al had both been surprised when Scorpius had decided to take Care of Magical Creatures—Scorpius had told Al over the summer about his father’s experience with a hippogriff, and James and Fred had taken it upon themselves to sneak up behind Scorpius all summer long pretending to be a hippogriff intent on attacking the thirteen-year-old. Rose found the whole thing amusing—which was exactly why Scorpius had told Al when Rose wasn’t around. He didn’t want to give her any ammunition to use against him.

Scorpius’ reasoning behind taking Care of Magical Creatures, however, seemed to be a combination of wanting to distance himself from the more unsavory stereotypical Malfoy characteristics, wanting to take a class with his friends, and a general liking for animals.

A couple of months into the first term, Hagrid had already taught the third-years about a few of the more benign creatures. Rose and Al were growing bored with the lessons as they wanted to learn about more exciting creatures—though nothing as daunting as one of their Uncle Charlie’s dragons—and even Scorpius found himself wanting Hagrid to bring in something more challenging than flobberworms.

While walking to Hagrid’s hut for class one afternoon, Rose made a suggestion. “Maybe Hagrid should bring in a hippogriff to see if one will get the better of a Malfoy once again. Or, at least,” she said, turning to Scorpius, “you and the hippogriff could face off to see which one of you has more pride.”

Scorpius, annoyed both at Rose’s comment and Al’s badly concealed bark of laughter, shot back his own suggestion. “Well, whenever Hagrid does run out of wild beasts, we can always study your hair, Weasley.”

Rose glared at him. “Not everyone has the luxury of being able to spend half the morning fixing their hair, Malfoy,” she said, gesturing to his hair, which was arranged to look artfully messy. “Tell me, are all Malfoys this vain about their hair, or is it just you?”

Scorpius ignored her comment about his family’s attention to appearances. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “Your hair ought to have its own chapter in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.”

Rose growled and stepped forward to slap him, but Scorpius’ Keeper reflexes—and the fact that Rose made to slap him on a weekly basis--allowed him to catch her wrist, avoiding the blow.

Rose jerked her wrist out of his grasp. “I hate you,” she declared, turning away from the boys and making her way down the hill in a huff.

Rose made sure to get the last laugh on Scorpius, however—during class she charmed his quill to write “Scorpiarse” whenever he tried to write his name. It took him a couple of tries to figure out what had happened, and when he did, he shot her a menacing look from across the field. She simply gave him a cheeky grin from her spot next to Alice, who was rolling her eyes at her friend’s antics.

“Makes you wonder why Weasley wasn’t put into Slytherin,” Scorpius whispered to Al, who couldn’t hide a smug grin at his cousin’s form of revenge.  
“No, mate, she could never be a Slytherin. She’s only like this with you—she’s nice to everyone else.”

******

Soon enough, the first Quidditch match rolled around. Rose had made the Gryffindor team this year due to the departure of a seventh-year Chaser. Rose was ecstatic to have finally made the team—she got to play with a few members of her family and some of her friends. Her father was overjoyed, but her mother, despite being proud of Rose for making the team, admonished her daughter not to forget about her studies. Rose, being her mother’s daughter, assured Hermione that she wouldn’t.

Rose, while not the most talented player on the team, was a good Chaser. She didn’t score much, but her small size enabled her to fly through the opposite team’s maneuvers and steal passes before the other players could blink.

The first match of the year was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The two teams had just as much of a rivalry as they had in Rose’s parents’ day, but now the house rivalry was eclipsed by a family rivalry. James and Fred both played for the Gryffindor team and Dominique was a reserve. Hugo would surely join the team as soon as he could. On the Slytherin side, Al played Seeker—the same position as James.

The brothers were highly competitive. While each would cheer for the other when playing the other houses, if their teams were playing each other it quickly turned into a heated rivalry. Rose had hated the week before the Gryffindor-Slytherin game; James and Al taunted each other so much it nearly drowned out her and Scorpius’ bickering.

******

The day for the match finally arrived, however, and Rose was excited to play in her first game. She’d told Al that she had no hard feelings for him—he was still her cousin and best friend, no matter the outcome of the game. She pointedly ignored Scorpius, who played Keeper for Slytherin.

The game started off well. Roxanne was announcing the matches this year. “I don’t know how the staff agreed to let me be the announcer since I’m related to half the Gryffindor team and a couple of players on the Ravenclaw and Slytherin teams besides,” she said at the start of the match. “And Scorpius Malfoy might as well be related since he is around our family so much.” Rose groaned at the thought of being related to Scorpius. “Now let’s have a fair game, everyone. Remember, if anyone hurts anyone else, Aunt Ginny will have your head. James, Al, this goes double for you. Rose and Scorpius, remember, this is a game, not just an extension of your ongoing battle.”

Rose blushed a little at being called out by her older cousin over the loudspeaker. Roxanne announced the players, drawing laughter at her confusion over how to read off the Gryffindor lineup: “Weasley, Weasley (Dominique was playing this match), Jordan, Wood, Mackenzie, Potter, and, er, Weasley.”

The game began and Rose quickly started zooming around the field. Slytherin had control of the Quaffle first and scored fairly easily against Mackenzie, the new Gryffindor Keeper. Alyssa Jordan, the daughter of Lee Jordan, answered for Gryffindor. Rose stole the Quaffle from a Slytherin Chaser on the next possession, zooming between two Slytherin players and nabbing the ball. Laughing, she got close enough to score and aimed it for the hoop Scorpius was hovering in front of. Since Rose had aimed the Quaffle close to Scorpius’ head, he had to roll upside down on his broom to keep from getting hit and the ball went right through the hoop. Rose stuck her tongue out at Scorpius, who looked determined to not let another Quaffle get by him.

The game progressed, and while Rose didn’t score again, the score was soon 90-70 in favor of Gryffindor. Fred and Andrew Wood, son of Oliver Wood, were excellent Beaters and kept the Bludgers away from the Gryffindors—until soon after the second hour of play had begun.

Rose was zipping around the pitch, following the movement of the Quaffle. Alyssa was advancing toward the Slytherin goals, Dominique and then Rose following in case of trouble. She wondered if the reason the Snitch hadn’t been caught was because James and Al were too busy trading insults to keep an eye out for the Snitch.

Suddenly, Rose heard a high-pitched whistling coming from her left. She saw Fred coming at her out of the corner of her eye, but it was too late. A rogue Bludger crashed into Rose. She heard rather than felt something in her leg snap and her broom wildly started descending. She heard shouts around her but no one was close enough to catch her. She fell and hit the ground hard, broom shattering next to her. She heard more shouts—someone, apparently Al—had caught the Snitch, winning the game for Slytherin.

She tried to keep her eyes open. Albus touched down next to her, calling her name. James landed a moment later. Neither of them seemed to be focused on the outcome of the game as much as they were on her. She managed to squeak their names before the pain rushed in. She was aware of someone coming to cart her off the field. With her last coherent thoughts, she hoped that her injury wouldn’t keep her from going to classes for long. She then blacked out, but not before she saw a shock of blond hair appear behind Al.

******

When Rose woke, it was to a crowd of faces peering down at her hospital bed. “Rosie!” they all exclaimed. Her dad, mum, Al, James, and Hugo all beamed at her. Rose tried to smile back, but the pain just made her grimace.

“How are you feeling, Rosie?” her dad asked, patting her hand. Her mum held her other hand, squeezing it.

“Feels like my leg is on fire,” she managed to choke out. Her throat was dry; Al noticed and conjured a glass of water. She drank gratefully and then addressed her family. “How bad is it?”

Her parents looked at each other. “You shattered the bone on the left side of your leg, Rose,” her mum explained. “Madam Pomfrey set the bone back into place, but it’s going to hurt for a while.”

“She said she’ll have to give you Skele-Gro,” her dad continued, making a face. “Nasty stuff.”

“She wanted to wait until you woke up to give it to you, though,” Hermione explained further.

“Probably because she likes seeing students’ faces when they have to take that vile potion,” Ron grumbled.

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped. “Honestly. Madam Pomfrey is a Healer. She’s bound to help her patients, not inflict pain on them! Just because you had a bad experience your third year…”

“But you’d think in all these years, someone would have developed a better-tasting potion…” Ron was interrupted by Albus, who was looking as exasperated as he did when Rose and Scorpius started bickering.

“Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, don’t you think we should get back to the matter at hand? You know, Rose’s injury?” The couple looked at their nephew, taken aback, and laughed.

“You’re right, Al. Got to get Rosie better,” said Ron.

“Definitely, Rose. You’re not just my cousin, you’re a valued member of the team,” James said.

Al rolled his eyes. “You just like it when she aims for Scorpius’ head and not necessarily the hoop.”

James laughed. “True enough, little brother. And when she scores I like it even more.”

Rose spoke up again. “How long will I be in the Hospital Wing?”

“Not long, I think,” Hermione answered. “That Skele-Gro will fix you up in no time. You’ll have to take it easy for a bit, but there’s no reason you can’t go back to classes in a few days.”

Rose sighed in relief, to Ron’s amusement. “Like mother, like daughter,” he chuckled, glancing fondly first at his daughter and then his wife.

“We sent Lily to tell everyone when it looked like you were waking up,” Hugo told Rose.

“Apparently even being related to the Golden Trio doesn’t make Madam Pomfrey want to bend her rules on the number of visitors,” James said with a scoff.

The door to the Hospital Wing opened then, and Rose saw Scorpius making his way to her hospital bed. “Lily said she’s awake,” Scorpius said. “Is she all right?”

Everyone turned to look at Scorpius when he voiced his concern for Rose. “What?” he asked the group. “Not much of a rivalry if one of us is down for the count.”

Rose had wondered why he seemed to be concerned about her condition, but his additional words clarified things. This was Malfoy—he probably just wanted to make fun of her for falling off her broom and for her team losing the game, and he couldn’t do that if she wasn’t awake. “Malfoy,” she spat at him.

He turned to look at her, and his eyes widened slightly. “Weasley,” he acknowledged. He looked at her bandaged leg and his eyes widened again. “That looks bad,” he commented, his brow furrowing at the sight of her injury.

“You think?” she sniped back. The memory of the rogue Bludger came to mind, and she lashed out at him. “You,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “It was you.”

“What was me?” he asked, incredulous.

“Don’t give me that,” she countered. “You know very well you were the one who sent that rogue Bludger at me.”

Ron turned to glare at Scorpius. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the younger Malfoy was starting to grow on him. However, if Scorpius Malfoy had hurt his darling Rosie…

Scorpius was indignant. “I did no such thing,” he protested. “How could I? I was flying between the hoops the whole time. I wouldn’t have had time to tamper with a Bludger to send it your way. Why would I do that anyway? You know Al would kill me if I ever did something to hurt you.”

“He hasn’t killed you yet,” Rose rejoined. “And just because you didn’t do it yourself doesn’t mean you didn’t get someone to do it for you.”

“Why would I want to do that? Why would I want to sabotage the game?”

“You tell me,” Rose snapped. “You’re always messing with me, always trying to one-up me. I figured a rogue Bludger could be your way of getting back at me.”

“Weasley, if I wanted to mess with your performance, I’d hide your broom so that you were late to practice. I wouldn’t send a Bludger at you. Again, your whole family would kill me if I caused you injury.”

Surprisingly, Rose’s family had stayed silent through their whole exchange. Then Al spoke up. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on him, Rose? You have to know that he never had any opportunity to tamper with anything. Plus, he’s right, we all would kill him if he hurt you.”

“And he actually takes the game seriously,” James added. “He wouldn’t sabotage the game just to get back at you.”

“Not everything has to be about your rivalry with him, Rosie,” Hugo said.

Rose huffed—she knew when she was beat.

“Glad to see that the fall didn’t injure your tongue or that temper, at least,” Scorpius muttered.

Rose glared at him. “All right, all right,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’ll go. I know when I’m not wanted.”

Rose scoffed at this. “I just wanted to see how you were,” Scorpius said. “And, all right, maybe I wanted to make a big fuss about how Slytherin won because of Al here,” he said, gesturing to Al when Rose made a noise of protest at his first comment. “But seeing as how you’re in no shape for a duel of words just yet, I’ll leave. Just take care of yourself, okay? Keep that temper sharp. I expect to see it in full force the next time I see you.”

“You can count on that,” Rose nodded. “And…thanks, I guess.”

Scorpius nodded, told Al he was going to the Slytherin common room, and then left.

Hermione looked at Rose carefully, eyes twinkling. “That Scorpius is something else, isn’t he?” she asked her daughter, who groaned.

“He’s definitely something,” she said, yawning as Madam Pomfrey came over to administer the Skele-Gro.

That was the Weasley-Potters’ cue to go, and after bidding Rose goodnight and her cousins saying they’d see her in the morning, they left.

Rose healed in time, but not nearly quickly enough for her. Scorpius had made quite a few jokes about a hobbling Rose when she had returned, but she’d threatened him with her crutches and he had miraculously shut up. He didn’t want to be out of commission for the next Slytherin game, which was almost assured if Rose got to him.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins met up again in the final match, but Rose managed to stay on her broom this time—although she continued to lob the Quaffle at Scorpius’ head. James liked that because she scored enough for the Gryffindors to have a sizeable lead by the time James caught the Snitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment--I love hearing from my readers! I won't know if I'm writing an enjoyable story unless you drop me a line ;)
> 
> Next chapter: :in which Scorpius takes the pranks too far and Rose gets revenge:


	4. in which Scorpius takes the pranks too far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! I really appreciate it. Thanks as always to sirenofodysseus and BeanerWeasley for betaing, especially the latter, who said that this was her favorite chapter yet. 
> 
> Scorpius is absolutely horrible in the middle of the chapter, but I think he redeems himself by the end. I hope you think so too. :)

Chapter Four: Fourth Year

_:in which Scorpius takes the pranks too far and Rose gets revenge:_

 

Soon after fourth year started, Rose thought that maybe this year would be different—maybe this year Scorpius would finally stop constantly needling her. Scorpius had had a growth spurt over the summer and was starting to look more like a young man, developing chiseled features and perfecting his smirk, which was apparently attractive to much of Hogwarts’ female population. Accordingly, a gaggle of girls started following him between classes and on the weekends, hanging on his every word and flirting with him nonstop. Scorpius didn’t seem to mind one bit—he didn’t overly encourage them, but neither did he send them away. Rose found the whole thing disturbing and bizarre—why anyone would blindly, adoringly follow after Scorpius like a baby chick after its mother was beyond her. He was a git of the highest order, in her opinion, and no amount of change in his appearance could make up for the fact that he was a constant thorn in her side.

(Scorpius would undoubtedly make some remark about roses always having thorns, but she found that metaphor trite and overused. She didn’t go around accusing him of stinging anyone, after all.)

Rose was waiting for Alice one day after their final class when Scorpius and his adoring fan club came into view. She heard one of the girls—a third year bent on making him her first Hogsmeade date—comment on his Quidditch prowess.

“Oh, Scorpius, how did you get to be such an excellent Keeper?” came the syrupy-sweet voice.

“Well,” he began, “I spend a lot of time at the Weasley-Potters’ during the summers. Since they’ve pretty much got their own built-in Quidditch team, we practice a lot, when we aren’t hanging out at the lake.”

The girls sighed, apparently at the thought of Scorpius in a bathing suit. Rose snorted. They wouldn’t be so enamored with him if they knew that he couldn’t even swim until the summer after second year, she mused.

“But aren’t most of the Weasley-Potters on the Gryffindor team? Except for Albus, of course,” said another girl.

“Yeah, they are, but just because they’re on a different team during the school year doesn’t mean I can’t practice with them over the summer. They’re my friends—and besides, playing against them during the summer helps me out because I know how they’ll play during the school year.”

“Are you spying on the Gryffindor team, then?” a fourth year who Rose knew to be in Slytherin asked.

“No,” Scorpius answered, looking a little surprised at the question. “The Weasley-Potters learn just about my playing style during the summer as I learn about theirs. Are you going to call them spies just because they like to play with a couple of Slytherins and a Ravenclaw during the summer months? It’s all in good fun anyway.”

The girls looked like they needed a few minutes to digest that speech, and Rose couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the imbecility of some of the girls around her age.

Scorpius caught sight of Rose just then and flashed her a smirk, not caring that she was immune to such displays. He spoke again, a little louder this time, and Rose knew he meant her to hear every word. “There’s another reason I’m such a good Keeper,” he told the girls, who were listening in rapt attention.

“What?” they asked collectively.

Scorpius caught Rose’s eye again before he answered. “I have to have quick reflexes to block Rose Weasley’s attempts at hitting me,” he said, nodding in her direction.

The girls sent a collective glare on her, then turned back to Scorpius.

“Why does she always want to hit you?” the first girl asked. Rose thought it should be obvious—not just because Scorpius was a ponce, but because their arguments were legendary. But anyone who was silly enough to look at Scorpius like he had hung the moon and stars definitely wasn’t playing with a full set of chess pieces.

Scorpius grinned. “She seems to think I deserve it,” he drawled by way of answer.

Rose couldn’t hold her comments in any longer. “Of course you deserve it. You spend nearly every waking moment baiting me and making snide comments, and then you have the nerve to act like you don’t understand why I retaliate.”

Scorpius stepped away from the girls who were clutching his arms and came to stand in front of Rose, towering over her.

“Weasley, admit it—you’d think something was wrong with me if I didn’t tease you.”

“I already think that there’s something wrong with you, so I don’t see what difference it would make.”

Scorpius started to say something, but was interrupted by the gaggle of girls behind him. “Come on, Scorpius,” they whined. “We’ve got a few hours before dinner—why don’t you show us some of your Keeper moves? She’s not allowed, though,” they added, sneering at Rose.

Scorpius sighed. “Better give them what they want. I need some practice time, anyway. See you later, Weasley,” he said, turning to leave.

“Have fun babysitting your Scorpettes,” Rose hollered after him.

Alice finally reached her, but Rose could hear Scorpius’ laughter ringing out down the hall above Alice’s chatter.

******

Scorpius thought he finally had the perfect prank to play on Rose. It was January, and the bitter cold made the house elves start serving hot chocolate with marshmallows. Scorpius saw this as the perfect opportunity to put his prank into motion.

He had told no one the details of his plan. He wanted to see all the Weasley-Potters’ faces if it was a success—and he preferred to shield them from the fallout if it backfired.

James and Fred knew he was planning a prank, but that was only because he needed their expertise to ensure that Rose sat next to Scorpius.

On the day of the prank, Rose was running late to dinner as usual. All the others had been directed by James and Fred to sit in such a way so that Rose had no choice but to sit next to Scorpius.

As Rose made her way to the Gryffindor table, Scorpius took his wand and surreptitiously transfigured a marshmallow. Glancing into Rose’s cup, he was satisfied that the first part of his plan had worked. He snickered at Rose’s face when she realized she had to take a seat next to him.

He said nothing but watched her out of the corner of his eye as he talked to Al across the table. When she went to take a drink, however, he focused on her. She raised the cup, breathing in the sweet drink. She loved hot chocolate—he knew she couldn’t resist it. In blissful ignorance, eyes closed, she went to take a drink…

And a spider came crawling out of the cup, feelers brushing against her cheek.

Rose’s eyes shot open and she screamed, face contorting with terror. She fell backwards off the bench, clawing at her face in an attempt to dislodge the marshmallow-turned-spider. She shrieked again, cutting through Scorpius’ laughter.

He had started laughing at the sight of her face when she realized a spider had crawled right out of her mug. He laughed even harder when she toppled off the bench. He stopped laughing, however, when he realized that Rose was alternating between crying and hyperventilating.

He had known that she was terrified of spiders—thus the prank—but had not realized how deep and strong her fear was. Everyone around him seemed too stunned to even attempt to help, and acknowledging the hint of guilt rising inside him, he waved his wand again, turning the spider back into a marshmallow.

Rose realized that the spider was gone, quieted down, and sat up. Hugo, who was sitting on the other side of her, reached to help her up, but she ignored him and clambered to her feet on her own.

Scorpius knew everyone in the Great Hall was looking at him, and he could feel the frustration and anger radiating from the Weasley-Potters, but he was focused on Rose.

Her eyes were sharp as steel and cold as ice as she glared daggers at him. He had never seen her this livid. Her face contorted with suppressed rage and a hint of pain. When she spoke, her words cut through him like knives.

“I hate you, Scorpius Malfoy,” she declared in a low, calculating voice.

He had never thought before that she fully meant those words, but he knew she meant them now with every bone in her body. Her lack of animation and rigid posture and tone scared him a little. He knew the only reason she hadn’t hexed him was because they were in such a crowded room.

(He wasn’t sure why none of the professors had acted yet, but thought that maybe they were waiting to see how she would respond before they did anything.)

While he was contemplating, Rose suddenly turned and marched out of the Great Hall, head held high.

Scorpius blinked, then turned back towards the table, rubbing his forehead. He could feel the stares of Rose’s family piercing through him, and he finally looked up, wanting them to get their censure over with as soon as possible.

They were all looking at him in disgust. Even James and Fred, the master pranksters who were never serious, had turned ferocious glares on him.

Roxanne finally broke the silence. “What in blazes was that?” she demanded.

“That,” answered Hugo, “was Scorpius being an arse.”

“How could you do such a thing?” Hugo continued. “You know she’s nearly as bad as dad when it comes to spiders.”

“I knew she was terrified of them,” Scorpius mumbled. “But I didn’t know that they paralyzed her with fear.”

He didn’t think any of them bought that, even though it was the truth.

Al finally spoke, his words taut as an anchor rope. “You screwed up badly. What possessed you to do such a thing? You need to apologize to her—or she’ll think less of you than she already does. And we’ll think less of you, too. You went too far this time, Scorpius. Usually we can turn a bit of a blind eye to you and Rose’s interactions, but not this time. Not this time.”

“You say you don’t want to be like your ancestors, Scorpius. Prove it.” James spat.

Scorpius hated the position he was in—and it was all his own fault. He didn’t want to lose the friendship of people who he now considered family. He was supposed to be reinventing the name of Malfoy, not falling into the same line of thinking and actions that had characterized his ancestors for centuries. Mal foi—French for “bad faith.” He didn’t want to live up to that name.

But it was more than that.

Scorpius knew Rose had every right to refuse to talk to him now, or even to be in the same vicinity as him. He wouldn’t blame her if she declared she never wanted to see him again.

But for some reason, the idea that he and Rose would never argue, bicker, and tease each other ever again was unfathomable. It was what they did; it was who they were.

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t think he could deal with it if Rose never acknowledged him again.

He had crossed the line; he knew that. All of the Weasley-Potters’ comments were valid. He knew that they all had good reason to stop being his friend, including Al. Rose was blood; he was not.

At that point, he didn’t think he’d care if Rose told him she hated him in the same manner she had for years every day for the rest of their lives. As long as she never said it the way she had minutes before.

As long as she would talk to him again.

Making a decision, Scorpius stood up and left the Great Hall, heading in the direction Rose had gone.

******

She was crying.

Rose Weasley, who hadn’t even cried—not that he knew of, anyway—when she had broken her leg last year during Quidditch.

Rose Weasley, who hadn’t cried in second year when she got an A on a Potions assignment and Scorpius had received an O.

Rose Weasley was crying—and it was all his fault.

He’d had no idea what to say to her when he burst out of the Great Hall—he just knew he needed to find her.

He definitely had no idea what to say when he saw tears rolling down her reddened face.

“Weasley?” he said tentatively when he got a few paces from her—she was tucked into a corner of the hallway, trying to hide from prying eyes and attempting to collect herself.

She didn’t say anything, but he knew she’d heard him because she visibly tensed.

“Rose?” he tried again in a softer voice. He had to tread lightly; he didn’t fancy being hexed to within an inch of his life, although he knew he deserved it.

She remained silent, wiping away her tears.

“Rose,” he tried again. He wasn’t leaving until he got her to listen to him.

Suddenly, she turned around in a whirl of red curls and drying tears. “Get out of my sight, Malfoy,” she spat before turning away.

He moved over slightly so that he was out of her line of sight and spoke again. “I’m not leaving until you listen to what I have to say,” he said.

She clenched her fists. “What, have you come to humiliate me some more? As if you didn’t humiliate me enough in there?” she said, gesturing towards the Great Hall.

“No,” he answered softly, in contrast to her strident tones. “I’ve come to apologize.”

“Apologize? You? Ha!” Rose scoffed. “I didn’t even know you knew the meaning of the word.”

“I do,” Scorpius said. “I’m sorry, Rose. Truly, I am.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “Do you really think saying sorry is going to cut it, Malfoy? You put a spider in my hot chocolate when you know those things scare me to death. You humiliated me in front of the majority of my family and the rest of Hogwarts. You are despicable. You’re an imbecile if you think that just saying sorry is going to make things better.”

He really hadn’t thought just a simple phrase would have worked on her, but he had given it a shot—plus it gave him a little more time to think of a better apology. Plus, he deserved every insult she could throw at him.

“Rose,” he tried again. “I mean it. I knew you were scared of spiders, but I didn’t realize they would provoke such a violent reaction. I wouldn’t have done it if I had known it would have scared you half to death.”

“Wouldn’t you? You seem to take every opportunity to infuriate and mess with me. How is this time any different?”

“Because this time I went too far. It was horrible of me and I feel awful. I like messing with you, but not to the point that it makes you cry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Rose, honestly, I didn’t.”

“But you did,” Rose said in a small voice. “You did.”

Scorpius didn’t say anything for a moment—he wasn’t sure what more to say.

Rose broke the silence. “You told me last year when I broke my leg during Quidditch that you wouldn’t hurt me. You said you wouldn’t because my family would kill you. And yet, you hurt me.”

Scorpius didn’t think that the possibility that he had sent a rogue Bludger at her during a Quidditch match equaled the spider prank, but he didn’t voice his opinion.

“I would never hurt you physically. I hope you know that. I know I crossed the line this time, but I’m going to do everything I can to prevent that in the future. I can’t promise to not tease or bicker with you anymore, but I can tell you that I will be more mindful of what pranks I try to pull on you in the future.”

“And,” he continued wryly, “I’m not so sure that your family doesn’t want to kill me. James looked ready to strangle me, and even Al looked like he wanted to clock me in the nose.”

“Good,” Rose automatically answered. She thought for a moment, and spoke again, temper rising. “And what makes you think that I would want to ever speak to you again after this? We may go to the same school, and we may have to be in the same vicinity at times unless Al decides to chuck you to the curb, but that doesn’t mean we have to be on speaking terms. You were cruel and hurtful. You may say that you didn’t know how badly your prank would affect me, but you knew it would upset me in some manner and yet you did it anyway—and in front of everyone! You made me look like a fool, Malfoy. I hate you.”

Scorpius was dumbstruck for a moment, digesting her words. Everything she had said was true. She had every right to ignore him and to refuse to react to his attempts at teasing her and bickering with her.

He knew she was within her rights to never acknowledge him again, but he didn’t want that.

The last part of her speech kept replaying in his mind—not so much the “I hate you” part as what had come before it. He’d made her look like a fool in front of all of Hogwarts.

He got an idea. He just hoped it was enough for her to realize that he was sincere in his apology and his claim to never hurt her in such a way again.

He took a deep breath—he was about to swallow his pride in an unMalfoy-like fashion. However, his relationship with the entire Weasley-Potter clan—not just Rose—was at stake, and he’d gladly swallow his pride to get back into their good graces—especially Rose’s.

“Rose, listen. I’ll do anything you ask if it means you’ll forgive me and talk to me again.”

She looked at him like he’d grown three heads. Her eyebrows raised and she got a mischievous glint in her still-red eyes. “Anything?” she inquired.

He could tell that her mind was whirring, trying to come up with an appropriate form of penance. He needed to clarify. “Well, not quite anything,” he began. When she frowned, he continued. “I’m not going to go jump off the Astronomy Tower or throw the next Quidditch match, no matter what James says,” he mused, knowing she would probably ask her cousins’ advice for the perfect revenge. “I won’t do anything that causes me permanent bodily harm. I wouldn’t do that to you, so don’t expect me to let you hurt me irreparably.

“But,” he went on, seeing that she still seemed interested in the idea, “I will do anything that humiliates me as much as you were humiliated in there. I won’t even complain about whatever it is that you come up with, as long as you abide by the conditions I already mentioned.”

Rose was looking at him like she’d never seen him before. “You would voluntarily be humiliated in front of the whole school just to try and get back on my good side?”

“Yours and your family’s,” he admitted. “Look, just say yes or no. I’m not going to ask again. I have to retain some pride, Weasley.”

She thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yes,” she answered. “But you have to keep up your end of the bargain.”

“Done,” he replied without hesitating. He couldn’t quite believe that she’d agreed. He supposed the idea of being able to get back at him with next to no consequences or restraints was appealing to her. He wasn’t about to back down, though. Not now that she’d agreed.

She nodded again, absently. “I suppose, though, that I can’t quite invoke your biggest fear, even though you used one of mine,” she said, thinking out loud.

He took the bait. “What do you mean?”

“Your biggest fear is disappointing or hurting your family, isn’t it?”

He nodded—how had she known that?

She gave a curt nod in confirmation. “I won’t go there. I know the importance of family. I won’t stoop to that level.”

He sighed despite himself. He hadn’t really thought she would bring his family into this, but he had momentarily panicked when she had voiced his biggest fear.

“No,” she said, still thinking audibly. That mischievous glint was back in her eye. “I won’t bring your family into this—but I could attack your identity as a Malfoy—the outward traits that mark you as a member of that family.” She nodded once more, making a decision. “Yes, that sounds appropriate.” She looked at him dead on. “Watch yourself, Malfoy. I’ll get my revenge soon. You may regret this.” She turned and walked away.

“No, Rose, I don’t think I will,” he replied softly, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

******

True to her word, Rose retaliated the next week at breakfast. Somehow, she’d managed to slip something into Scorpius’ drink that made his hair gradually disappear throughout the day until he was completely bald by dinner. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d nearly screamed when he’d caught sight of his newly bald head. Rose had chosen her revenge perfectly—attacking his hair was an excellent way to strike at the Malfoy name and appearance without affecting an actual member of his family.

He knew that he had been attracting attention all day. Rose’s family was obviously aware of her part in the prank because James and Fred looked pleased as punch at their younger cousin’s initiative, Al couldn’t stop laughing and grinning at Rose, Hugo had showed up with a camera at different points during the day to track his receding hairline, and the rest of the bunch couldn’t hide their giggles and sniggers.

The other students had been whispering all day long, stopping when they noticed he was paying attention to them. He couldn’t say a word, though. He’d glared at James, Fred, Al, and Hugo throughout the day, but wouldn’t go any farther than that for fear that Rose would think he wasn’t holding up his end of the bargain, and then his sacrifice would have all been for nothing.

Rose, for her part, seemed to take immense pleasure in Scorpius’ discomfort and lack of hair. To most of Hogwarts, it appeared that for the most part Rose had forgotten Scorpius’ prank, or at least had put it to the back of her mind. Scorpius, however, knew better. For weeks after his prank—long after his hair had grown back—Rose would not touch a mug of hot chocolate. It saddened him to think she didn’t trust him to not try that prank again.

It was never said out loud, but all of Hogwarts knew that Rose was behind Scorpius’ hair loss. What most of the students didn’t know—in fact, no one knew outside of Rose, Scorpius, Al, James, Hugo, and presumably Alice and Lily—was that Scorpius had invited Rose to prank him. That was best left to as few people’s knowledge as possible.

After Scorpius had gone about a week without hair, Rose had reversed the spell, telling him and her family that the spell had merely made his hair invisible and had not actually removed his hair at all. He was impressed at her ingenuity but said nothing—by that time, his hair had reappeared, but it now changed colors every day for a week, making his blond locks go through every color of the rainbow. Apparently Rose wanted her revenge to be very thorough—not that he blamed her. He’d done enough to her over the years that she was due for a comeback.

After the second week of Scorpius’ hair humiliation, things returned mostly to normal. Despite his words to Rose while attempting to apologize to her, however, Scorpius didn’t initially start teasing or bickering with her again. He didn’t want to accidentally infuriate her for a second time. He didn’t think his pride could survive another groveling session. It took a lot of self-control, but Scorpius managed to hold his comments in for the most part. He only chimed in with a snide remark or a teasing comment when her cousins were already messing with her and his contributions could get lost amidst the others. He dearly missed teasing her, but tried to keep himself in check.

About six weeks after Scorpius’ humiliation had ended, it became apparent that Rose was just as disgruntled with the lack of arguments and snappy comebacks as Scorpius was. According to Alice and Lily, Rose had been stewing silently for about three weeks before she finally snapped. As a last resort, they explained to Scorpius after the incident had already occurred, Rose had deliberately answered a question wrong in class just to see if Scorpius would jump at the chance to correct her and debate with her over why her answer was wrong and his was right. Scorpius, however, had merely answered correctly.

After class, Rose had come up to him, fuming. She had demanded to know why he hadn’t jumped down her throat for answering incorrectly, and when he’d made an evasive answer, not wanting to get into a monstrous fight with her again, she had glared at him and responded. “I don’t know why, and Merlin forbid I ever admit this again, but I miss bickering with you and arguing with you. So quit walking on eggshells around me and give it to me straight, just as you’ve always done.”

She turned to leave the classroom. Scorpius grinned, yelling after her. “Oi, Weasley! Forgetting common potion ingredients now, are we? You’re slacking. You don’t want to come second to me in Potions for the fourth year in a row, now do you?”

She turned around, smirking at him. “You’re a right smarmy git, you know that?”

He made a big show of looking surprised. “Excuse me, did I hear you correctly? Did you just call me charming?”

She blinked. “I hate you,” she told him—but without any of the malice and utter hatred that had accompanied that phrase weeks before.

He grinned wider. They were back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed--please leave a comment! I'd love to read what you think. :)


	5. in which Rose and Scorpius become prefects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! I really appreciate it. :)
> 
> Thanks as always to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus for being made of all kinds of awesome.
> 
> From this chapter until the end of seventh year, there will now be two chapters per year.

Chapter Five: Fifth Year, Part One

_:in which Rose and Scorpius become Prefects, there is much wordplay, and Patronuses are discovered:_

 

Scorpius spent much of the summer before fifth year with the Potters, as his parents had decided they needed an extended getaway for just the two of them. Rose thought it was hilarious that Scorpius’ parents apparently needed an extended break from him, and said so the first time she saw him at Al’s. Scorpius, for his part, was glad to be at the Potters’ house—it beat being cooped up in the dreary, large manor. There was always bound to be somebody coming round to the Potter house, with as many cousins and friends of the family as they had. Since Rose and Al were close, she and Hugo came over the most.

Rose and Scorpius did get along a little better than they had in previous years. They still teased and bickered, but it was all in good fun—neither of them wanted a repeat of what had happened a few months earlier. Rose found to her surprise that a couple of times over the summer, she found herself thinking that Scorpius wasn’t quite that bad—but she would never say so, and usually he would say something that would snap her out of such ludicrous thoughts.

Rose did notice that Scorpius started looking at her more frequently, usually when quite a few of the Weasley-Potters had come over to Al’s to hang out. His attention made her a little uncomfortable; he wasn’t glaring at her, just watching her at odd moments. She finally asked him if she had something on her face, and when he told her “just your freckles,” she decided he had just lost his mind and frequently stared off into space in her direction.

(Al noticed how his best mate’s attention kept straying to his cousin more than usual—and so did Lily, if her secretive smiles whenever Rose and Scorpius interacted were anything to go by. The siblings privately decided that Scorpius was head over heels for Rose, with Lily saying she’d figured it out soon after the events of the previous year, but both were at a loss as to how Rose felt about their friend. If Rose’s parents’ record was anything to go by, it would be a while before Rose decided one way or the other.)

The last two weeks of the summer were spent, as always, at the Burrow. Scorpius had come as well, arriving a day after the rest of the Weasley-Potters. A few days before they were due to head back to Hogwarts, Al and Scorpius had come down the stairs to find Rose in the kitchen eating breakfast.

“Morning, Rosie,” a still half-asleep Al said, going to the cupboards to find some cereal. Rose greeted him and heard Scorpius snorting from the doorway. “What?” she demanded.

“Your hair,” he managed to choke out. “It’s wilder than usual. What did you do, sleep with one of your grandmother’s egg beaters wrapped in your hair?”

“No,” Rose spat. But Scorpius wasn’t finished.

“Your grandfather was fiddling with electricity again yesterday and was showing Al and me all the components. I must say, Weasley, if the world ever runs out of copper wire, they could just use your hair instead. I bet no one would be able to tell the difference,” he joked, walking over to her as he was talking and pulling a strand of Rose’s hair as he did so.

“I hate you,” she groaned, smacking his hand away. She got up to put her bowl in the sink and turned to look at him while washing out her glass. “I’d say that your hair could be used for a lightbulb filament, but there’s no way that stuff could turn anything on,” she said, not even realizing how her words could be construed.

“Oh, I think you’ll find that my—what was it you called them? My Scorpettes?—my Scorpettes find my hair very irresistible, Weasley. I light them right up.”

“I don’t see how,” Rose countered, blushing a little as she realized the implication of her earlier words. “They’re not very bright to begin with—they fawn all over you, don’t they?”

Al decided to speak before things escalated anymore—and at eight o’clock in the morning, at that. “Why are you up so early, Rosie?” he asked. “Usually you like to sleep in as much as possible the week before school starts.”

“Maybe she realized that her attempts at beauty sleep weren’t working?” Scorpius asked, but thankfully, Rose ignored him.

“I got my Hogwarts letter early this morning,” Rose said, a smug grin creeping over her face. “And look what they sent me!” She pulled a Prefect badge out of the envelope and waved it around, taunting Scorpius with it.

“Congratulations, Rosie!” Al said, beaming at her.

“You didn’t get one, Al?” she asked.

“No, he didn’t,” Scorpius answered.

“But I did,” he continued, taking his own envelope out of his pants pocket and pulling out his own Prefect badge.

Rose’s face drooped. “I’m sorry, Al,” she said. Then she looked at Scorpius.

“Merlin’s beard, why did they have to give you a prefect badge, Malfoy?”

“Why wouldn’t they? I get excellent marks, am good at Quidditch, I’m charming…I actually have a good rapport with the younger ones. Remember when I helped your brother and cousin on their first day at Hogwarts, Weasley? I’m a prime example of a Prefect.”

“You’re so full of hot air, Malfoy, it’s a wonder you haven’t floated away yet. I just hope the professors aren’t vindictive enough to stick me with you as a patrol partner.”

Al shuddered. “They’d be off their rockers to pair you two up. You would be too busy arguing to even pay attention to patrol.”

“I think we’d work well together, as long as Rosie here refrains from hexing me,” Scorpius said, grinning.

“It’s not my fault you have a knack for irritating me. If you would just act like a decent human being more often I wouldn’t have to hex you.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Scorpius asked. “I can be a decent human being, but it’s just too much fun to rile you up sometimes.”

Scorpius looked at his badge again. “Well, would you look at that? They’ve spelled prefect wrong on my badge.”

Rose glanced at her own. “Mine is just fine. Mabe you need to go back to primary school if you can’t even spell prefect.”

“No, I’m serious. They’ve made a mistake.”

“Other than giving you the badge? Let me see that.” Rose walked over to Scorpius and turned the medallion in his hand over to look at it. “Malfoy, this is spelled correctly. Do you need to get your vision checked?”

“No. See? They mixed up the placement of the “r” and the first “e”.”

“But then it would spell “perfect.””

“Exactly,” Scorpius said, smirking.

Rose groaned. “On second thought, they did spell it wrong.” Scorpius grinned at Rose, who ignored him in favor of continuing. “They put too many letters on here, and they need to change a vowel. The letters “efec” need to be removed and an “a” put there instead.”

“But that would spell prat,” Scorpius responded.

“Exactly,” Rose rejoined with a smirk of her own.

It was Al’s turn to groan. Sometimes he felt like a third wheel when Rose and Scoripus started in on each other like this. “Scorp,” he sighed, “just admit that you’ve been outmaneuvered and move on.”

“Never,” Scorp replied, still looking at Rose.

“He can’t, Al,” said Rose, who by this time was engaging Scorpius in a staring contest. “He’s incorrigible.”

“Pulling out the big words today, are we, Weasley?”

“It’s not my fault that there are so many “in” words to describe you, Malfoy,” Rose retorted. “Incorrigible, insufferable, infuriating, incomprehensible, insolent, infernal, indefatigable…”

“Incomparable, inimitable, ingratiating, intelligent, ingenious…I’d even go as far as to say endearing but that starts with “en”,” Scorpius said, supplying a few of his own adjectives—but they were far more positive than Rose’s.

Al banged his head on the kitchen table. “It’s too early for this,” he complained, nearly whining. “We get it—you two know a lot of big words. You don’t have to show it off, especially when some of us don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Sorry, Al,” Rose said sheepishly. Then she grinned. “Guess we’ll just have to buy you a dictionary.”

“Indubitably,” Scorpius interjected.

Rose raised an eyebrow at his deadpan delivery and then started cackling, much to Scorpius’ surprise.

Al groaned even louder and threw up his hands in defeat, heading to get some breakfast. Scorpius just looked immensely pleased that he’d gotten Rose to laugh.

******

As it happened, Rose and Scorpius were paired on one patrol session per week, causing Rose to seriously doubt the intelligence level of the heads, who had made out the schedules. Surprisingly, Scorpius was right—he and Rose did work well together. They couldn’t help but continue their debates, but were quick to join forces whenever they needed to enforce the rules. Except for one time when Scorpius jokingly shut Rose in a broom closet, their patrols went off without a hitch.

This was also O.W.L. year, and Rose and Scorpius had agreed to a studying/library truce—much like the ones they agreed to for finals, except that this one would last for most of the year. While they agreed to not dive into one of their heated arguments while studying, that didn’t mean that they couldn’t debate the merits of different spells or which authority to cite in a paper. They took to reading over each other’s papers and giving advice—Rose when it came to semantics, grammar, and punctuation, and Scorpius on the big picture. They also teamed up to help their friends, especially Al and Alice. Al was smart, but he didn’t have the patience to sit and study for the amount of time that O.W.L.s required, and Alice simply needed to have her papers looked over and some of her points refined.

Fifth year was also the year that Defense Against the Dark Arts students learned how to conjure Patronuses. Those lessons were taught by Harry Potter himself—which Al was not looking forward to.

“Uncle Harry isn’t trying to embarrass you, Al,” Rose told him one day while she, Al and Scorpius were heading towards the DADA class. It was the day that Harry was due to teach the class about Patronuses, and Al had been grumbling all morning and all through lunch. “Can you honestly think of anyone else who is as qualified to teach us about Patronuses as your dad?”

Al thought for a minute and then grumbled, “No. No one alive, anyway.”

“Seriously, Al, your dad isn’t going to make a scene about you being his son. He’ll just treat you like you’re a regular student. And you’re not James—you’re not going to make a big scene about things, either,” said Scorpius.

“Malfoy’s right,” conceded Rose, who sounded like she hated the fact that those words were coming out of her mouth, but did it for Al’s sake. “Your dad has put up with people making a scene over him for pretty much his whole life. He’s not going to make you go through that.”

“But what about the Patronus itself? What if I can’t conjure one by the end of the class? What if I end up with something silly as a Patronus? Like a unicorn?”

Scorpius and Rose both snorted. “Al,” Rose said. “You’ll be able to conjure one with no problem. You’re a fine wizard. You have a knack for DADA—maybe it’s because Uncle Harry started training you early, or maybe it’s inherited—but whatever the reason, you’ll do just fine.

“And don’t worry about what Patronus you’ll get,” Rose continued, trying to soothe her cousin’s fears. “I’m sure you’ll end up with a stag, just like your dad and grandfather. James has one too, doesn’t he?”

Al nodded and thanked Rose and Scorpius, feeling kind of silly for being so concerned about something so trivial as a Patronus’ form when his father had been worrying about surviving the impending war at his age.

His attention was quickly diverted elsewhere, however, as Rose began to tease Scorpius. “The real question is,” she said pointedly, “what Malfoy here will end up with. The way I see it, things could go one of two ways—he could end up with a ferret or a peacock.”

Al started laughing at Rose’s insinuation that Scorpius would end up with a ferret for a Patronus. Once Scorpius had let slip that his father had been turned into a ferret during his fourth year, Al and Rose had taken to ribbing him about it whenever they could—and Rose threatened to turn him into a ferret on a semi-regular basis.

Scorpius just glared at Rose. “Think you’re funny, don’t you?” he growled at her.

“Yes,” answered Rose, grinning at him cheekily.

Scorpius just shook his head. “That was a rhetorical question. I should have never let that slip,” he muttered to himself.

He eyed Rose again. “The ferret reference is obvious—”

“—I’m glad you can finally see the resemblance,” interjected Rose.

“—but why a peacock? We may have raised them at Malfoy Manor in the past but I don’t think I ever told you all that.”

“You did? Hmm,” mused Rose. “Anyway, the peacock is a reference to your haughtiness, your pride, your tendency to preen when it comes to your appearance, your tendency to show off—”

“Me? Show off?” asked Scorpius, incredulous.

“Well, what else would you call doing all kinds of rolls on your broom during the last Quidditch match?”

“Displaying my enviable skills,” answered Scorpius, like this should be obvious.

“Seems like two sides of the same coin to me,” said Rose. “And I think the only thing you’re displaying is more of that infernal pride.”

“I have pride because I have something to be proud about,” retorted Scorpius. “And my skills must have made some sort of impression or you wouldn’t have noticed.”

“It was kind of hard not to notice when everyone around me was screaming “Look at Scorpius! He’s so talented! And so dreamy!” and other crazy things like that.” Rose said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, if I’m supposed to be a peacock—and I’m not saying that I am—then what are you, Rosie?”

Scorpius didn’t wait for Rose to answer and turned to Al. “Al, what’s that dragon called that your dad faced in the Triwizard Tournament? The extremely bad-tempered one?”

“Hungarian Horntail,” Al answered, already knowing where Scorpius was going with this.

“That’s right. Hungarian Horntail. That’s you, Weasley. It’s a wonder you haven’t started breathing fire yet. Although, you might burn Hogwarts down…”

“It’s a good thing I don’t breathe fire or you would have already been burnt to a crisp. And is your intellect failing, Malfoy? You only came up with one possible Patronus for me.”

“Are you sure you want to be insulted some more, Weasley?”

“Seems only fair.”

“You have a twisted concept of fairness, Weasley. However, I’ll bite. It may be stereotypical, but you could always be a lion. Ferocious, daring, brave—and with that mess of hair, you already have a mane.”

“Malfoy, only male lions have manes. I’m a female.”

“Is that what you are? I hadn’t noticed.” Scorpius eyed Rose up and down, making her a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze. The gleam in his eyes told her that he definitely knew that she was a girl and was just trying to get under her skin as always.

“You’re impossible,” Rose huffed.

“Impossible to forget, love,” Scorpius drawled, smirking and drawing a bit closer.

“I hate you,” Rose barked, backing away. She didn’t quite know what to think about the look he was still giving her. Scorpius was inching into uncharted territory and that scared her a little.

Thankfully, they had reached the classroom by this time, and for the first time all week—all year, really—Al couldn’t be happier that his dad was teaching the class. Surely Rose and Scorpius wouldn’t get into an argument in front of him.

******

Harry had walked the fifth-years through the basics of the Patronus spell—their regular DADA teacher had been instructing them on the mechanics of the spell for a few weeks before bringing in Harry to teach the final class. Harry produced his own stag to demonstrate what a well-formed Patronus would look like. Although the threat of evil was long past, Harry was adamant that the next generation (and subsequent ones) would learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, because as he told the class, everyone has the ability for good and evil inside them; people’s choices determine where they will go in life. Knowledge of the past and its failings would go a long way to ensuring that such evil would not rise again. Though the chance that evil would return on such a scale again was slim, Harry meant to prepare the students just in case they needed to stand up and fight.

Harry instructed the students to try to conjure a Patronus, telling them that almost no one did it on the first try but to give it their all. Indeed, no one conjured it on the very first try, but Al was the first to succeed, sending his stag galloping across the room, followed by the appearances of Rose and Scorpius’ Patronuses.

“A wolf?” remarked Rose, seeing one emerge from the end of Scorpius’ wand.

“Disappointed it’s not a ferret or a peacock, Weasley?” asked Scorpius. Harry couldn’t help chuckling at Scorpius’ mention of a ferret.

“No, just surprised,” answered Rose. “A wolf would have been one of the last animals I would have guessed for you.”

“Wolves are misunderstood creatures, Rose.”

“Scorpius is right, Rose,” Harry said, coming over. “What do you know about wolves? Or at least their characteristics?”

“Well,” said Rose, “A lot of times they are portrayed as solitary animals, but then there was that Muggle movie The Jungle Book where that little boy was raised by wolves. They do travel in packs and they watch over their own…”

“Exactly,” said Harry, nodding. “Wolves are extremely loyal, intelligent, cunning creatures.”

Rose looked thoughtful. “I guess it does make sense,” she conceded. She then flourished her wand and a stream of grayish white mist came forth, coalescing into the shape of…

“What is that?” Rose asked, looking at the small furry animal currently scampering after Scorpius’ wolf.

“That’s a mongoose, I believe,” answered Harry. “They’re native to India.”

“Wait a minute,” said Rose. “Wasn’t there some Muggle story about a mongoose who took on a snake?”

“Yes,” said Harry. “I remember your mother telling me about that one.”

“That’s a fitting Patronus, then, Weasley,” commented Scorpius. “An animal brave and daring enough to take on a poisonous snake? Makes sense—you are, after all, one of the only people willing to take on a Slytherin—and a Malfoy at that,” he continued, smirking at Rose.

Harry smiled at the exchange between his niece and his son’s best friend. “Mongooses have a lot of loyalty as well—and they have to be clever to outwit a snake.”

He looked at them both. “Well done, both of you.”

“Thank you, Uncle Harry. I’m going to go talk to Al now—I told him he didn’t need to be worried about today,” Rose said, nodding at Scorpius and leaving.

“That was a very powerful Patronus you released, Scorpius,” Harry observed. “That must have been a very strong, wonderful memory.”

“It was, sir,” answered Scorpius.

Harry could tell that the memory Scorpius had called upon was not one that the young Malfoy wanted to discuss, but wanted to mention it anyway. “I suppose you won’t care to tell us what memory you used, would you?”

Scorpius looked a little flustered. “If it’s all right with you, sir, I’d rather keep that to myself. It’s a bit…personal—and I haven’t even quite figured out why that particular memory came to mind.”

“That’s fine, Scorpius. Just know that sometimes the most personal, emotional memories make the strongest Patronuses—especially when they feature people you love.”

Harry turned to talk to other students who were finally succeeding at the task, but he had one last point to make to Scorpius.

“You know, most wolves mate for life.”

He saw a slight blush creep up on the young Malfoy’s face and nodded, suspicions confirmed, at how Scorpius’ eyes slid towards Rose for a heartbeat before turning back to Harry.

“Thank you for the lesson, sir,” Scorpius said formally, face still a little flushed.

“Of course, Scorpius. Just remember what I told you.”

Scorpius nodded and turned to go talk to Al—and Rose.

He’d remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment-I'd like to know what you think!
> 
> The next chapter will be the second half of fifth year, and takes place after the events described in "prefects and prats." It's not necessary to have read that oneshot before reading the chapter, but it does make for a better reading experience, I think.
> 
> Next chapter: in which there is a turning point


	6. in which there is a turning point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to the amazing BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus.
> 
> This chapter takes place soon after the events depicted in "prefects and prats." If you haven't read that story yet, read it now-I hinted at what happened in that story in this chapter, but I think it's better to have read the story. It's a fun one-lots of bickering and Rose being oblivious.

Chapter Six: Fifth Year, Part Two

 

_:in which there is a turning point:_

 

After Rose’s failed (disastrous) date to Hogsmeade right before Christmas with her other patrol partner, Nicholas, due to Scorpius’ interference (to put it lightly), all she wanted to do over the holidays was make her grandparents’ home live up to its name—she wanted to hide out in the Burrow and have a few days of peace without Malfoy there to ruin things.

(She still wasn’t sure why he had persisted in spending time in the Three Broomsticks needling her about Nicholas instead of spending time with his own date—and had even less of an idea why he seemed to care so much about who she dated and then proceeded to scare off her date.)

But of course, no holiday was complete at the Weasley-Potters’ unless Scorpius came to spend a few days. Surprisingly, Scorpius seemed to have lost a little of the bluster he had had at the Three Broomsticks a few weeks earlier. He still found time to mess with Rose—such as stealing her pie right out from under her nose and replacing it with Al’s piece, making her ask him what he’d done to it, as well as sticking bows left over from presents in her hair—but at other times failed to bait her like he normally would have done.

(It was like he was actually kind of taking her advice to act like he cared about her as much as he had hinted he did. That unnerved her. She understood and could deal with a mischievous Scorpius, unlike a somewhat kinder, more respectful Scorpius.)

Classes resumed after Christmas in the usual fashion for most, but O.W.L.s were looming for the fifth years. Rose was so busy between studying for classes and the O.W.L.s and playing Quidditch that she didn’t have time to actively start looking for a new boyfriend.

That was just as well, she decided, because between Al, Hugo, and Scorpius, she didn’t know if she would be able to find someone who would pass the three boys’ inspection and still want to date her afterwards.

Rose and Scorpius had taken to debating topics that would be covered on their O.W.L.s—how best to write about them, which examples to use, which scholars to cite—while on their patrols.

Rose had taken the opportunity during one patrol about the middle of the spring term to continue an argument that had started earlier that day during dinner. Rose and Scorpius had gotten so invested in their dispute that they had barely touched their plates and had not even noticed when the Weasley-Potters had left the Gryffindor table, fed up with Rose and Scorpius’ incessant competition.

A hungry Rose and Scorpius made for an even more combative Rose and Scorpius, so Scorpius, hoping that Rose would drop the argument if plied with food, had gotten some simple, easy-to-carry snacks from the kitchens that they could eat while on patrol.

No such luck—Rose was just as intent on proving her point as she had been hours earlier. Scorpius watched her, only part of him paying attention to her points. She was currently waving her arms, a half-eaten roll still in one hand, forgotten for the moment. Her eyes snapped and her hair whipped around as she animatedly, determinedly defended her position. She was so wrapped up in arguing with him that she nearly ran into archways and walls a couple of times, his fingers wrapping around her flailing wrists and dragging her back sparing her just in time from an embarrassing injury.

At some point, they stopped walking and she turned toward him, even more animated than before, if that was possible. He knew she was wrapping up her closing arguments by the way she stared him down, one hand clenched into a fist, the other pointing a finger at him, poking into his chest.

(It would be a real shame if she didn’t end up working somewhere in the law field, he thought. She had all the makings of a lawyer—she could argue with the best of them. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they elected her to the Wizengamot in the next twenty, thirty years.)

And to think that he had started all of this with one smart comment at dinner…

She was still making her case, but her words were just going in one ear and out the other. He was too caught up in the expression on her face, how her eyes crinkled and sparked, how alive she looked.

She was a real live wire, and it wasn’t because of her hair.

Looking at her, he realized something that had been slowly coming to the forefront of his mind since the events of the previous year.

He realized that, even though the past few years had been devoted to him constantly trying to get under her skin, somehow his defenses had weakened and she had weaseled her way under his skin, slipped into his veins and made her way into his heart.

He loved her.

He had known for a while that he fancied her—but apparently his feelings had grown. Somewhere between the fights, the pranks, the witty banter, the constant rivalry, he had fallen for this intelligent, fiery, determined, spirited, loyal young woman.

He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. He might be only sixteen, but he was pretty sure that she was it for him. He couldn’t imagine arguing with or loving anyone else.

It was taking all of his self-control not to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her defiant mouth.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t even know if they could even be considered friends. They had been getting along better recently, but was that enough? He wanted her love, but he wanted her friendship, too. Maybe it was best to start with that.

(He didn’t think they would ever stop quarreling with each other, but he didn’t really want to, and it seemed like she didn’t either. They enjoyed their disputes too much to ever stop.)

He sighed. She had finished ranting and was staring at him, waiting for him to take up his thread of the argument. He surprised her.

“Rose,” he said. “As much as I enjoy arguing with you, I haven’t been able to concentrate. I’m tired. Let’s pick this up again tomorrow, shall we?”

(He was tired, and his fatigue was impacting his ability to pay attention. He wasn’t lying—just omitting the fact that he couldn’t concentrate because he was too focused on her instead of the debate at hand. He couldn’t admit to that yet.)

She looked annoyed at his dismissal of the dispute, but she saw his tired face—he was starting to get bags under his eyes—and realizing her own fatigue, consented to a truce for the time being.

“But I get to make an even longer argument next time. I had a perfectly constructed case and you couldn’t even pay attention enough to come up with a rebuttal. You’re falling down on the job.”

“I’m tired, Weasley,” Scorpius said. “Between studying for regular classes and O.W.L.s and keeping up with Quidditch, I don’t have much time to sleep. On patrol nights it’s even worse.”

She nodded. “If O.W.L.s are this bad, I don’t even want to think about how hard N.E.W.T.s will be.”

“At least N.E.W.T.s will be over subjects we actually like,” Scorpius commented.

“True, but will we even like them once we’re done with the tests? And N.E.W.T. subjects are covered for two years. We may get more time to prepare for the tests, but the tests are more in-depth, cover more material, and count for more than O.W.L.s do.”

“At least we get more time. I would hate to think how we would all fare if we had to cram N.E.W.T. level classes all into one year of instruction.”

“I’m wondering if I’ll have to give up Quidditch for my last year or so here at Hogwarts,” Rose confessed.

“What? Why? You love playing Quidditch,” Scorpius asked, perplexed.

“I don’t love it as much as James or Al do,” Rose answered. “My classes are more important to me. I want to get good marks and scores. And with as many N.E.W.T. classes as I’ll be taking, I need to carve out enough time to study and eat and sleep. Plus, I tutor younger students on a regular basis. I don’t know how much time I’ll have for Quidditch.”

“I’d wait and see how the first part of sixth year goes for you before making a decision,” Scorpius reasoned. “Not that my opinion makes any difference, but…”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Rose admitted.

Scorpius smiled. “As long as you still have time to bicker with me,” he said.

Rose smirked. “I think I can manage that.”

Since they seemed to be getting along well for the time being, Scorpius decided to ask a question that had been bothering him for a while—since before Christmas, in fact.

“Weasley, can I ask you a question?”

Rose looked at him, a little startled. “You just did,” she pointed out.

“Humor me,” he said, pleased that she hadn’t immediately said no.

She gestured towards him, indicating he could ask what was on his mind.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why is it, that in all the years we’ve fought and bickered with each other, you have never brought up my family’s past as a way to insult me? You surely have had many opportunities to invoke my family’s actions over the years, yet you never have—not even last year, when you had more reason than ever.”

It was true—she hadn’t. She had never played the “Death Eater” or “Supporter of Voldemort” card with him. She might mock his hair, his vanity, or his arrogance, but never his family’s past. Not even after the marshmallow spider incident—when, in his mind, she would have had every reason to do so.

Rose looked shocked at his question. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “What, do you want me to bring up your family’s past?”

“No, no, that’s not it at all. I’m grateful you haven’t. I just wondered why.”

Rose looked thoughtful for a few minutes. Scorpius had about given up on getting an actual answer when she spoke.

“Well, for one thing, my parents raised me better. They have always taught me to judge a person by their actions and character, not by their family or their blood status or their degree of wealth.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Fine, most of that was from my mother, but my father insists on disregarding blood purity and wealth as factors when considering a person.”

“I thought your father hated me.”

Rose laughed. “My dad doesn’t hate you, Malfoy. He tolerates you. I think you’ve actually grown on him over the years, but he’ll never admit it.”

“Weasley, didn’t you see how he looked at me last Christmas? I thought he was going to Avada me right there!”

Rose shook her head. “That was because you took the last piece of the pie, Malfoy. You’ve been around my family for years—surely you know by now not to get between my father and pie.”

“I bet he doesn’t look at you like he wants to kill you if you somehow wind up with the last piece.”

Rose looked a little sheepish. “If I somehow wind up with the last piece, he usually will start to give me that look, but then sigh and offer to split the piece with me.”

Scorpius knew that Rose had her father wrapped around her little finger, but that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Dad looks at Hugo like he wants to throttle him if Hugo gets the last piece, too, if that helps.”

It did a little, but Scorpius didn’t say so. “Is that all? You steer away from my family’s past misdeeds because your parents have raised you better?”

Rose shook her head. “No,” she replied. “There are a few more reasons. From what my father has said over the years—and to a lesser degree my mother and Uncle Harry—your father was consistently vile and horrible to them during their years at Hogwarts. My uncle says that’s because your father was raised in a hostile, dark environment and was already in too deep when he started to change his mind about his side in the war.

“I know I don’t know everything that your ancestors did during the war, and even before, but nothing you have done has ever matched their deeds. Not even what you did last year. It might have, if you hadn’t worked so hard to redeem yourself, but you did work to get back on my good side, and that’s what matters in the end.

“You’ve worked hard to distance yourself from what your family did. From what Al says, your father has changed as well.

“You may be the most insufferable, incorrigible, infuriating person I have ever met, but you are not evil. You wouldn’t take the dark path when faced with a choice. There is goodness in you, even though it’s sometimes hard to see when I’m furious with you.

“We quarrel because we’re Rose and Scorpius, not because we’re a Weasley and a Malfoy. People need to be judged for their own actions, not for whatever their family did or did not do.

“And besides,” Rose said, coming to a close, “I don’t think Uncle Harry would have approved of Al being friends with you if you had been as diabolical as your ancestors.”

To say that Scorpius was shocked by Rose’s speech would be an understatement. It was good to know that her rivalry with him was not fueled by their families’ antagonism but by her own irritation and need to compete with him.

“You think there’s goodness in me?” he asked. For Rose to say such a thing meant a lot—Rose was kind to most everyone, except for him.

“Yes,” said Rose. “You help with Weasley-Potter Quidditch injuries during the summers. You are kind to my grandmother, mother, aunts, and cousins, even if you aren’t always nice to me. You are good with the few first and second years we’ve come across in the hall on patrol—you never berate them, just give them a warning.

“Plus,” she said with a wicked grin, “I’ve heard all about your tea parties with your younger cousins.”

Scorpius groaned. “I wish you hadn’t heard about that. I’ll throttle Al.”

“It was James and Fred who told me, actually,” said Rose. “Just know that we do have blackmail on you.”

Scorpius sighed again. Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with the Weasley-Potters.

(It was better than being their enemy, though.)

“You know,” he said suddenly, “My father actually has great respect for your uncle.”

“Which one?”

“Your Uncle Harry.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He won’t admit it, but he does. First year, when I first befriended Al, I was afraid to write to him and tell him who my new best mate was. I told my mother, but told her to keep it a secret until I gathered up the courage to tell my father.

“I wrote him two months into the new term and finally told him. When he wrote back, he said that he was surprised, but thought that it was a good thing. A Malfoy and a Potter being friends could go a long way towards restoring the Malfoy name.

“I thought he only approved of the friendship because of the benefits it would bring to the family, so at Christmas that year I asked him what he really thought about the whole thing. I was scared. I had never had many friends growing up, what with being stuck in the Manor most of the time, but I liked your family and wanted to stay friends with them.” He chuckled. “And I wanted to keep annoying you, and it would have been harder to do that if I wasn’t around you and your family all the time.”

“So what did your father say?”

“He was surprised. He said being friends with a Potter would definitely help the family name, and he did appreciate that, but that wasn’t the reason he was okay with it. He said that he hadn’t had many friends at all during Hogwarts, and none of them were very close friends, not even the two he hung out with the most. He said he wanted something different for me, and that if that meant I was friends with a Potter, then so be it.

Scorpius smirked at his next memory. “I think the fact that Al was sorted into Slytherin really amused my father, and that might have played a role in accepting my friendship with Al, but don’t tell him that.”

Rose chuckled. “So why does your dad respect my uncle?”

Scorpius sobered. “When I told him that I was friends with Al, he told me that your uncle Harry had saved his life and his friend’s life when they were seventeen, even though they were still on opposing sides at that point. He said that without your uncle, he wouldn’t be here, and neither would I. He never said outright that he respected your uncle, but I could tell he did. He wouldn’t have said the things he did otherwise.”

Rose was surprised. “I hadn’t heard that story,” she said.

“I’m not surprised. When I told Al a few years ago, he said he hadn’t heard that story either. We went and asked Al’s dad and he confirmed the story but didn’t really go into detail.”

Rose just nodded, and they walked in silence until Scorpius remembered something else.

“I think my father has a lot of respect for your mother, too.”

“Really?” asked Rose. That was even more surprising than the fact that Harry had saved Draco’s life.

“Yes,” answered Scorpius. “He said your parents also helped Mr. Potter save his life. He also said that your mother was extremely brilliant and that she was instrumental in the right side winning the war. He then asked me if I knew you—” here a self-satisfied smirk appeared on Scorpius’ face—“and when I said that I did, and that you were annoying and a know-it-all and I loved to argue and mess with you, he told me that if you were anything like your mother, and that it sounded like you were, to watch out for your right hook because one day I would get to meet it and it would hurt.”

Rose’s eyes had narrowed at Scorpius’ description of what his first-year self had thought of her, but laughed when he finished his comment. “And it did hurt, didn’t it?” she said, grinning cheekily.

“It did,” Scorpius admitted. “And no, I don’t find you annoying or a know-it-all now, even though arguing with you is probably my favorite thing to do.”

Rose rolled her eyes, even though she felt the same way about arguing with Scorpius. “I’m surprised that your father complimented my mother,” she said. “From what little my mother has said, and what my father has liked to repeat at different intervals since you became a friend of the family, your father was an insensitive jerk during their years at Hogwarts.”

“He would be the first to tell you that he was young, and stupid, and very, very impressionable,” Scorpius said. “He hasn’t told me much about the last couple of years of the war yet—he promises he will when I’m older, but I don’t think he’ll tell me everything—but from what he’s said, those last couple of years really took a toll on him. They completely upended his life and everything he knew or thought he knew before. He’s changed. He says the war started the change, and that my mother and I cemented it.”

Rose nodded. “The war changed a lot of things, a lot of people, disrupted and changed a lot of lives. Your father was in the thick of it. Of course he would have been one of the most affected.”

Scorpius just nodded back. Rose’s answer showed her good heart, her willingness to believe that all people had good in them—even him. He appreciated what Rose said, even if it could be considered a bit of a blanket statement. He would never say so, though; he was just glad that she was willing to listen and talk to him.

He laughed suddenly. “Did we just get through an entire conversation without arguing?”

Rose chuckled. “I guess we did. Better check and see if pigs are flying.”

“Or if Filch is actually smiling,” Scorpius commented.

Rose laughed. “That would be a nightmare. No one could ever unsee that!”

Scorpius grinned at her. “Friends, Weasley?”

Startled, Rose looked at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” he answered.

She thought for a moment. “Rose,” she finally answered.

It was his turn to say “What?”

“Rose,” she repeated. “My name is Rose.”

Scorpius grinned again. “Friends, then, Rose?”

She gave him a half-smile. “I hope I won’t regret this,” she said softly. “But yes, sure. Friends.”

Scorpius smiled so big that it felt like his face was going to split in two. “You won’t regret this, Rose.”

 

******

 

The next day found Scorpius and Rose walking into the Great Hall for dinner together, as if they’d done so for years. Rose was laughing at something Scorpius had said and he was grinning down at her. They both were oblivious to the stares of the other students and the whispers that commenced as soon as the students got over their shock.

(They definitely didn’t hear a couple of students ask “Are they finally dating?” or see a few Sickles change hands.)

They did, however, notice the looks of shock on the faces of the Weasley-Potters when they reached the Gryffindor table. Well, most of the Weasley-Potters looked like they thought Hogwarts would crumble around them at the sight of Rose and Scorpius actually getting along. Al was briefly shocked, but quickly switched to amusement and a bit of smugness. Lily merely grinned knowingly.

“What’s going on?” James asked, breaking the silence.

“I thought they were always at each other’s throats,” Roxanne muttered.

“They were, they are,” Lily answered a little too happily. “Maybe now they’ll be at each other’s throats in a different way.”

Roxanne looked at Lily wide-eyed and Al groaned from his spot next to Lily.

“I did not need that visual,” he said, putting his face in his hands.

Meanwhile, Scorpius and Rose had stopped talking long enough to answer James. “We’ve decided to bury the hatchet, at least a little, and try to be friends,” Rose explained.

“Yeah, Rosie and I will still probably bicker all the time, because for some weird reason we actually like arguing with each other, but this year has shown that we can actually get along for an extended length of time. That, and the fact that she seems to finally accept that I’m not going anywhere, despite her attempts to scare me off, means that we’ve decided to be friends.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Just because we’re friends now doesn’t mean you get to call me Rosie. That’s reserved for only a few special people.”

“And here I thought I was special,” Scorpius said, face drooping exaggeratedly.

“I could say something about that,” said Rose primly, “but I’m not going to. I’m going to be the bigger person.”

Scorpius made a show of looking her up and down. “I think you’ve got a bit more growing to do to be bigger than me, Rose.”

Rose just shook her head. “Nothing will ever be bigger than your ego, I don’t think.”

Scorpius grinned. “I wasn’t talking about my ego.”

“Scorpius!” Rose said, blushing a little.

“Rosie, Rosie, get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking about height.”

Rose just sighed. “Remind me why I said I’d be friends with you?”

“I’m quality entertainment,” Scorpius said. “I help you with Potions, you help me with Ancient Runes. I can hold an intelligent conversation with you, I can challenge you like no one else. I get along with everyone else in your family—why shouldn’t we be friends?”

“When I come up with something, I’ll let you know. I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion soon,” answered Rose. “Until then, fine, Scorpius. Still friends. Just as long as I can still argue with you to my heart’s content.”

“What do you think we’ve been doing for the last few minutes, Rosie? I wouldn’t dream of not arguing with you. If we’re friends, that just means we have more opportunities to argue.”

Al groaned at Scorpius’ last statement. “Like you two need more opportunities to argue.”

Scorpius glared at Al. Rose took the opportunity to flick some mashed potatoes in his face.

He turned to look at her, surprised.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Just had to get that out of my system. I was wondering if the mashed potatoes would be lighter or darker than your vampiric skin.” Rose grinned cheekily once more and everyone around the table laughed. Even Scorpius joined in once he wiped the food off his face and flicked Rose’s nose.

Rose just grinned and turned back to her food.

“I thought it was bad enough when they were just rivals,” Al complained to Lily. “But I think them being friends might even be worse.”

“At least she didn’t say she hated him,” Hugo interjected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Yes, Scorpius has finally admitted to himself that he loves Rose :) He completely adores her; there's no going back for him now.
> 
> Please leave a comment, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter!
> 
> Next chapter: in which Rose and Scorpius debate classic literature and discuss post-Hogwarts plans


	7. in which Rose and Scorpius debate and discuss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus for being awesome betas.

Chapter Seven: Sixth Year, Part One

 

:in which Rose and Scorpius debate classic literature and discuss post-Hogwarts plans:

 

Fifth year ended with O.W.L.s, as expected, and with Rose and Scorpius' friendship still intact, which was unexpected to most of Hogwarts. The two had maintained a truce throughout studying for O.W.L.s and seemed determined to keep it up after O.W.L.s were complete.

Even with the truce, however, the two sixteen-year-olds still bickered and teased each other, although with a much more lighthearted, almost flirty air. For the first time since Scorpius had begun spending at least part of the summer with the Weasley-Potters, it looked like the chances of Rose and Scorpius fighting all summer long were nearly nonexistent.

No one really knew what to think about Rose and Scorpius remaining friends. In a way, the Weasley-Potters were glad that the arguments had been pared down to a minimum, but they were so used to a Rose and Scorpius who were constant rivals that a Rose and Scorpius who were actually friends—and good friends at that—were flabbergasting.

Scorpius went to stay with the Potters for a couple of weeks in the middle of summer, and the Potters, Scorpius, Rose, Hugo, Dominique, Fred, and Roxanne all descended on the Burrow for a few nights.

One night, Scorpius had had enough of listening to Al thrash around in the bed across the room and went downstairs to get a late-night snack. To his surprise, there was a lamp on in the living room—Rose was up and reading a book, snacking a bit herself.

She was wearing her pajamas—a tank top and short shorts—and even though her hair was falling out of its hastily made bun, Scorpius didn't think she'd ever looked prettier.

"Rose? What are you doing?" Scorpius asked quietly.

Rose jumped, startled. She put her finger in the book to hold her place and turned to look at him. "Oh, it's just you, Scorpius," she answered. "I'm reading, of course."  
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, taking a bite of banana.

Rose shook her head. "Not with Lily talking in her sleep and Dominique snoring. I don't know why the four girls all have to share a room this time. You only have to share with Al."

"Al's thrashing around so much it's like he's playing a Quidditch game in his sleep," Scorpius replied. "I haven't been able to get to sleep, so I thought I would come downstairs and get a snack."

"Do you ever stop eating?" Rose asked, grinning.

"I'm a growing boy, so no," Scorpius said.

"I think you've spent so much time with my family that our eating habits are starting to rub off on you," Rose teased.

"I don't think anyone could eat as much as your dad or James, though," Scorpius said and then gestured at Rose's book. "What are you reading?"

"Pride and Prejudice," Rose responded.

"You're reading that book again?" Scorpius asked, perplexed.

"I like rereading books," Rose rejoined. "I always notice something that I hadn't noticed during a previous read. It makes me think. Plus some books are just so good that I can't help but reread them."

"It's not so much that you're rereading a book as the content. Jane Austen only writes about marriage. And since you're only sixteen, and I don't see anyone knocking down the door for your hand, you've got a while to think about that, don't you?"

"No one's knocking down the door for me because you, Al, and Hugo have scared them all away," Rose couldn't help but grumble. Then she found her bookmark and put it in the book, since she could feel a debate coming on between her and Scorpius. She was actually glad for it—they hadn't had a good row in ages. She liked arguing with him—it kept her wits sharp, and he was the only person she knew who could match her word for word.

(She knew, however, that she didn't want to trade their friendship for anything. She actually liked being friends with Scorpius, and being friends who bickered was just fine with her.)

She turned towards Scorpius, who had sat across from her on an ottoman, and launched into her defense of Jane Austen and great literature. "Jane Austen doesn't only write about marriage. She just uses marriage as a catalyst to talk about other things, like class—both social and financial as well as well as how you conduct yourself. Whether a "good match" is more desirable in a marriage than affection and love, and what it means to be a gentleman—not that you'd know what that means, Malfoy."

Scorpius grinned. He loved it when she got on the defensive. Her body grew taut as a violin string whenever she began to refute whatever he had said.

(He wasn't even mad that she had called him by his last name—she still frequently slipped back into that old habit when they argued. She'd start calling him Scorpius again when the argument was over.)

"Merlin, Rose, you sound like a professor."

Rose huffed. "What's wrong with that? Being a professor is a completely legitimate profession. At least I take the time to think about what I'm reading and try to find the context. It makes for a better read."

Scorpius was surprised at Rose's reaction to his offhand comment. "Have you considered being a professor, Rose?"

Rose actually blushed a little. "I did a few years ago. I think it would be a lot of fun to teach others about literature and the historical context and make people actually enjoy reading. If I was a Muggle I probably would have went to a Muggle university, studied literature, and maybe become a professor. But I'm not, and there's really no opportunity for a witch to teach Muggle literature at Hogwarts."

"For what it's worth, I think you would make a great professor. You obviously love literature—not that I didn't already know that, as much as you read—and even more, you love talking and thinking about it. Are you sure that there's no opportunity to teach Muggle literature? You could always see if Hogwarts would do a Muggle Studies class on nothing but Muggle literature. You've said before how you wished that people would read more and broaden their horizons into Muggle literature—teaching a class could be your chance to correct that. And we both know how much you love to correct things," Scorpius replied, not able to keep from making that last crack.

Rose just smiled. "No, I gave up on that idea a year or so ago. It just wasn't feasible—and I don't think I would want to work as a professor for the rest of my life. I love Hogwarts, but I don't know how I could be married and have a family and still work at Hogwarts, since most of the professors live in the castle year-round. Uncle Neville manages it, but it's a little different for him. I also wouldn't want to live so far from my family—even after I get the ability to Apparate, I'm not sure I would want to live that far away from my family, especially my parents and brother and Al."

Rose sighed and tucked her legs up under her. "It's different for you, Scorpius. You've known what you want to do for years. Healers are always necessary. I know you wonder sometimes whether you'll be accepted as a Healer because of your family's past, but honestly, Scorpius, you have the grades and the ambition and the will to be a Healer. Anyone who is stuck on your family name instead of looking at the things that really matter like grades, aptitude, and willingness to work does not even deserve a moment's consideration."

Scorpius was surprised at how well she understood his concerns about being a Healer. It was no secret that Scorpius had aimed to be a Healer for years, but somehow Rose had pinpointed his chief concern about his chosen career. Not even Al had been able to do that. "How did you know?" he asked.

Rose gave him a slightly smug look. "I've known you for years, Scorpius. Even though we only just became friends a few months ago, that doesn't mean that I didn't notice certain things during the years previous. I did pay attention to some things concerning you, especially when I thought they might come in handy for a prank or a rebuttal of an argument."

"Yet you never used that one," Scorpius said softly.

"It never really came up," Rose said. "When you're in second or third year, you're not really thinking about what you're going to do after Hogwarts—at least not as much as you should during your sixth or seventh years."

"Thank you," Scorpius said.

"For what?" Rose said, confused.

"For what you just said. It means a lot that you think I will make a good Healer and that I shouldn't pay attention to those who would call my ability into question just because I happen to bear the name of Malfoy."

"You're welcome," Rose automatically answered.

"So," Scorpius said, grinning, "If you don't want to be a professor, do you have any idea of what you do want to be after Hogwarts? A lawyer, perhaps? You definitely argue like one. You could run circles around your opponents' arguments, I think. Just as long as you keep that temper of yours in check."

Rose rolled her eyes. "No, I don't want to be a lawyer. I do, however, have an idea of what I would like to do with the rest of my life—but I'm not sure about how to make it happen. It's something that no one in my family has ever done—which is a good thing, I think—but I'm just not sure how to break into the field, or to even let my parents know what I want to do."

"Do you think your parents would disapprove of your chosen career?" Scorpius asked. He couldn't imagine Ron or Hermione disapproving of anything their daughter decided to do.

"No," Rose answered. "I just want to make sure that this is what I really want to do before I tell my family."

"You could tell me," Scorpius said. "If you want to. I'm not technically your family. I might be able to help you figure out how to land a job in your field. That is, if your parents or family can't—and that would surprise me, given how many connections they have."

"Do you really want to know?" Rose asked in a small voice.

"I do, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Scorpius said.

Rose sighed. "I think it might be good to get this idea out in the open. Just promise you won't laugh."

"I won't laugh," Scorpius immediately said. "You're not about to run away and join the Muggle circus, are you?"

Rose laughed. "No, my family is circus enough for me." She sobered. "I want to be a crime reporter."

Scorpius nodded. "I can see you being a crime reporter," he said. "I think you'd make a brilliant one. You would have access to the latest stories because of your family, but it's a job you could make your own. You always make good marks on your essays, and you've helped me get better marks on mine for years. You're a good writer, Rose. I think you should go for it."

He smirked. "It also would fulfill your Gryffindor need for adventure without putting you in a direct line of danger. You could badger people for information and investigate crimes through records to your heart's content. I think you could even sway people to believe one side of the story just through your writing alone."

"You really think I'm that good?" Rose asked.

"Yes," Scorpius said simply.

Rose smiled. "Thank you," she said. "Although, badgering people is your area of expertise, not mine. And I don't want to twist facts to suit my interpretation of the story. That's one reason I want to become a crime reporter. There are too many people in reporter roles who pick and choose what facts—if they really are facts—to present to the public to skew the story in a certain light or in someone's favor. I'm tired of that. My family knows, probably better than anyone else in the magical world—except for your family, I guess—how articles can skew the public's perception of you just by what they choose to print. I don't want to do that. I want to present the facts of cases—all of them, not just ones that can be manipulated—so the public will know what's going on. I want to write an engaging story, sure, because of course a writer wants his or her readers to pay attention to what is going on—but I want to do so without compromising the integrity of myself or the facts concerning a certain case."

Scorpius was amazed by Rose's statement. If he had thought she had been passionate in her defense of Jane Austen, that paled in comparison to her zeal now. She had obviously thought about this subject a lot—and her concerns were valid. She had grown up with the Daily Prophet as a constant presence in her life as it tracked seemingly every move her family made. Her sense of righteousness and justice would not allow an abuse of journalism to go unchecked. She would be perfect for such a job—and not just because of her skills as a writer, but because of her tenacity, her drive, her intelligence.

Scorpius told her so. Rose beamed at him, glad that someone at least could validate her chosen path. "I've thought about interning at the Daily Prophet next summer, but I'm not sure I could keep from trying to implement change right away."

Scorpius laughed. Rose would certainly turn the place upside down if she could. "No, I don't think going in blazing will win you any points. However, an internship is a good idea. You would get experience—and you would be able to see firsthand what needs to change."

"I think I could hold my tongue on the bigger issues, since a reporting job is so important to me," Rose said. "But I don't think I would be able to lie about my position if someone asked me about an issue point blank. I need to learn how to answer politely but firmly, I suppose."

"And years of arguing with me have not prepared you for that," Scorpius joked.

Rose laughed. "No, not always. I have gotten better at holding my tongue when it comes to you, though. Sometimes."

"Do you think you will go for this job, then?" Scorpius asked.

"Of course," Rose said. "This is really what I want to do. I just need to prepare myself. Luckily, I have a whole year to do so if I decide to apply for an internship next summer. I also need to tell my parents…"

"I'm sure they'll support you, love," Scorpius assured her.

"Thank you," Rose said. "I do feel better now that I've talked about it, even if it was to you."

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" said Scorpius.

"I just never thought the first person I would tell about my plans for the future would be you, of all people," Rose answered.

"What can I say, I'm full of surprises," Scorpius replied.

Rose sighed, falling back against the couch. She looked like she was getting sleepy.

"Am I boring you to sleep, love?" Scorpius asked.

"No," Rose said, although a yawn did escape. She stretched, her back arching, and Scorpius couldn't help but trace the lines of her form with his eyes. His fingers itched to touch her, but he couldn't. No telling what Rose would do.

Rose started to talk again, interrupting Scorpius' train of thought. "I hate it when you do things like this, you know," she said.

"Things like what?"

"Well, when you belittle me, like you were earlier about reading Jane Austen, and then follow it up by being thoughtful and considerate, like you were just now, listening to me about my concerns for the future and reassuring me that things will turn out all right. It makes it impossible for me to hate you," she said, sighing.

"Good," said Scorpius. Rose quirked an eyebrow at him. "I don't hate you, Rose. I may love to rile you up sometimes—all right, much of the time—but I don't hate you."

She just smiled at him, not knowing what to say.

"Now, about Jane Austen," he began, and she groaned softly. "No, wait," he said. "I never thought that books like Jane Austen's could involve so many issues and concerns, have so many layers. I thought her books were about one thing and one thing only."

"Books can be surprising, you know. Kind of like people."

"So are all those issues really dealt with in one book? Marriage and social class and financial worth and what it means to be a gentleman?"

"Yes. Jane Austen has a subtle wit. She pokes fun at the people and situations around her without being totally obvious most of the time."

"I didn't realize that."

"Of course you wouldn't. Sometimes you're about as subtle as a Bludger to the face."

Scorpius threw back his head and laughed. Rose smiled but shushed him, telling him he was going to wake everyone up. He quieted, and she told him to read another book of Jane Austen's.

"You should read Emma. I think you will have a lot of fun belittling the heroine."

"Better to belittle a fictional character than you, I suppose?" Scorpius said, smirking.

"Exactly," said Rose. "And you need a little culture."

"I'm cultured," Scorpius retorted. "I read Shakespeare. I know how to dance."

"That may be," said Rose smoothly, "but all of that does not a gentleman make."

"Well, Rose, have I been gentlemanly enough for you?"

Rose rolled her eyes but smiled before yawning again.

"All right, Rosie, you need to get to bed."

Rose got up from the couch. "You too," she said. "Maybe Al will have settled down now."

Scorpius stood up. "What does everyone have planned for tomorrow?"

"Probably more Quidditch, or heading to the lake," answered Rose.

"Don't you ever just stay inside?"

"We've tried. Grandma just shoos us out the door. No one wants to be underfoot when she's bustling around the house."

Scorpius nodded. He didn't think the Weasley-Potters would really want to stay inside during the summer, but he thought he would ask.

He and Rose had reached the stairs by this time, and they headed to their respective rooms.

"Goodnight, Scorp. And thanks again," said Rose, squeezing his arm.

"Goodnight, love," Scorpius answered softly. "You're welcome."

She smiled at him, reached out like she was about to hug him, gave it a second thought, and went back into her bedroom.

Scorpius had made it to his bed before he realized a few things:

Rose hadn't said she hated him. She had said she hated how he acted sometimes, but not that she hated him. She'd made to hug him, but stopped. She'd told him something that not even her parents or Al (or probably Alice, for that matter) knew.

And she had called him Scorp.

He knew she was turning him into a sap, but he found he really didn't care. A year ago, she definitely wouldn't have held such a conversation with him. A year ago, they hadn't been friends.

A year ago, he hadn't yet admitted to himself that he was irrevocably in love with Rose Weasley.

She didn't hate him, it seemed. A year ago, such a statement would have been unfathomable.

He couldn't say with certainty when she had last told him she hated him. This was progress.

She didn't hate him—just the things he did sometimes, apparently—and he intended to keep it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! What did you think? Is Rose finally realizing what's been in front of her this whole time?
> 
> Please take a minute to leave a comment. It keeps me motivated to write.
> 
> Next chapter: in which Rose and Scorpius exchange birthday presents
> 
> (Any ideas on what Scorp will get Rose and vice versa? The presents have been planned for ages, but I'd still love to read your guesses.)


	8. in which Rose and Scorpius exchange birthday presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually breaking my own rule by posting today-I try to wait until the next chapter is finished before posting a chapter, but I didn't want to make you wait any longer for this chapter, since I have no idea when chapter 9 will be finished. I am hard at work on it, but I've got a busy weekend planned, so writing time may be minimal.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a fun one. :)
> 
> The usual thanks to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus, the usual suspects.

Chapter Eight: Sixth Year, Part Two

_:in which Rose and Scorpius exchange birthday presents:_

It was the ninth of October, and Rose awoke with a start to the sound of something tapping on the dormitory window closest to her bed. She looked over, and there was an owl looking expectantly at her, a package in its mouth.

_It's my birthday_ , she thought, realizing what day it was. _I'm finally seventeen_!

Rose bounded out of bed and over to the window, where another owl had joined the first. Soon, all sorts of owls had come bearing presents for Rose.

Her cousins, brother and friends always threw a party for her in the Room of Requirement on the night of her birthday, but everyone always sent her presents (or a note, if the present was too large to deliver via owl) first thing on her birthday so she began the day surrounded by presents and well-wishes.

She went through the packages, opening them as quietly as she could, trying not to wake any of her dorm mates. Alice, however, woke about twenty minutes after Rose started opening presents and gave Rose her present—a warmly knitted scarf and hat in Gryffindor colors, of course.

Rose's parents had sent her a few gifts: a pair of pearl earrings that had belonged to Hermione's mother, who had instructed Hermione to send the gift along; a set of new quills; and four tickets to go see the Weird Sisters in concert on their farewell tour over the Christmas holidays.

Al and Hugo had sent Rose two books that she had wanted for ages—she couldn't decide which one to read first. Lily had sent a huge bottle of Rose's favorite lotion. Rose's various aunts and uncles had sent her money—she could buy whatever she wanted on her next Hogsmeade trip. The rest of her cousins and friends had sent her various kinds of candy, especially her favorite, sugar quills. Her Weasley grandparents had sent her a beautiful hair clip with a purple stone set in the center as well as a notebook to "begin her investigative reporting," as the small note with the gift explained.

Rose had told her parents and then the rest of her family about her chosen career soon after her talk with Scorpius, and, like Scorpius had said, they had all been very supportive. Rose had not thought that they would be disappointed in her choice, but she wanted to make sure that she had their full support.

After looking through Rose's presents and discussing the upcoming party, Alice had left to eat some breakfast. Since it was a Sunday, Rose didn't have classes and felt like she could spend a couple of more hours in bed reading—just as soon as she figured out which book to start reading first.

She had just decided to start reading the book Al had gotten for her when she heard another tap at the window. A bird she thought was faintly familiar was rapping impatiently, a small package next to it. She opened the window, letting the bird in and picking up the package. It was obviously book-shaped, but felt a little heavier than the usual fiction books she read. She tried to think of who the gift could be from—everyone who usually got her gifts had sent her one. Except…

She looked at the note attached to the packet. Her name was written on the outside of the note in large, flowing script. She knew that handwriting…

She tore open the note—it was actually a few pages folded together. She was puzzled at why a birthday present would require a mini-novel—wouldn't a simple "happy birthday, hope you like this" do—but then again, the sender of this present had never taken the normal approach to things, especially with her.

She began to read:

_Rose—_

_Since this is your seventeenth birthday, I thought that such an occasion warranted something more than my usual gifts. Don't start getting paranoid, now; I assure you that my gift is useful and practical._

Rose had to stop reading and snort at that. Scorpius had been getting her prank gifts since third year—his birthday present for her that year had been a book entitled _The Care and Keeping of Birds_. It was obviously a reference to the flock of birds he had charmed to chase after her in their second year—clearly he hadn't learned his lesson about messing with her. He had laughed at her face when she had opened the present when he had given it to her at her party and had actually had the gall to ask her a few days later if she had any prospective tenants yet.

The so-called "gifts" hadn't stopped there, though. Over the years she had been gifted with many bottles of Sleek-Easy hair potion and, once, even a purported "cure" for Spattergroit—Scorpius' jibing reference to her freckles.

However, she and Scorpius were friends now, and so she was curious to see what in the world he had bought her this year. She resumed reading:

_(Don't deny it, though, Rosie—you always look forward to my gifts, especially because I went to such trouble to make them special—I even would pick out all the green Bertie Bott's beans because I know you hate them. Honestly, it's just a coincidence that the green ones happen to be my favorites—although I freely admit to eating all the green ones. I deserved compensation for all of that work—do you realize how many green pieces are inside every bag? Don't say I never did anything for you, Rosie.)_

She had to laugh at the memory of the bags of Bertie Bott's beans he had given her quite a few different times. He was right—she did hate the green ones. And of course he would take advantage of the fact that he loved the beans she hated by eating them after picking them all out—and there were a lot of them. She wondered how long it had taken him to go through the different bags and pick the green ones out for her…

She shook her head, not wanting to go down that line of thought. She wanted to know what was in that package, darn it. He better tell her soon.

_Anyway, before you get too mad about my previous presents to even register that I have managed to find a mature gift for you this time, let me explain my reasoning behind the gift. (Go ahead and look at it, if you haven't already.)_

She set the note down and turned to the package, tearing the wrapping open. It was a book, and a well-made one at that. It was sturdy and hardbound, but she couldn't tell what kind of book it was. Over the place where the title usually was, a note had been stuck: Hit me with a growing spell, it read. She grabbed her wand and mumbled "Engorgio" at the book. Immediately it grew to what she realized was its normal size—the size of a textbook and about the same thickness as Hogwarts: A Revised History. The small note had flown off when she had sent the spell at the book, and now she saw the title: _Thesaurus_ , it read in gilded letters. She noticed her name had been imprinted in the top right hand corner. She flipped through it, noting all the words this book contained—some of them had been highlighted, although she wasn't sure why. She was too stunned at the gift to check.

He'd gotten her a thesaurus, of all things? And a very well-made thesaurus at that. No cheaply made, mass-produced thesaurus for her—the binding was thick and would last for years, a good thing since the books she used the most always ended up in a state of disrepair. She wouldn't have to worry about this book wearing out for a good, long time. She didn't even want to guess how much he had spent on it—it was obvious it was way too much, especially for her, even if it was her seventeenth birthday.

She returned to the note, hoping he would explain his intentions.

_Yes, I got you a thesaurus. I remembered our conversation about our future plans and how you said you wanted to be a crime reporter. I know it is important to you to stick to the facts when reporting so you don't fall into the sensationalized style that has run rampant through the press since our parents' days at Hogwarts, but there is nothing wrong with writing a compelling account based on facts to ensure the reader's attention. No one wants to read an article that sounds like it was lifted straight out of one of Binns' lectures. You're capable of writing well and holding your audience's attention; use your talent, Rose._

She was stunned even more. He had put a lot of effort into getting her a gift that she could actually use—and he had remembered almost exactly what she had said about her reasons for being a crime reporter. She was honestly touched at his kindness.

_This thesaurus is meant to help you; it is not a slight to your intelligence at all. All good writers use the tools at their disposal. I'm sure you know many of the words in here already, but there may be a few you haven't seen yet._

Honestly, she hadn't even considered the thought that he might be intending the gift as a slight to her. It was too much of a thoughtful gift for that.

_To get you started, I've taken the liberty of marking a few words that might prove useful. Feel free to try them and their variants out during our next argument._

Curious, she flipped the book open again. There was a piece of paper sticking out of the middle; she turned to that page and saw that he had marked the crime section. The thesaurus was evidently split into sections and categories, with sections like crime, behavior, feelings, occupations, and values. She noted the various categories dealing with crime and decided that they would definitely be helpful. But why would Scorpius say to use them during their next argument?

Perusing some more, she started to notice more words that had been highlighted: _handsome, intelligent, cunning, enticing, charming_. She groaned at his obvious implication—he wanted her to use such words and their variants when arguing with him. She knew he couldn't have gotten her such a gift without putting something teasing in there to offset his kindness.

She did notice, however, that other words were highlighted: _banter, wit, aggravation, obstinate, dissent_ —all words that described their relationship over the years, at least until recently. He'd even highlighted _curse_ and _incorrigible_ , which made her laugh.

(He'd also highlighted the words _beautiful_ and _passionate_ , although the reasons for those words were less clear.)

Confused, but nevertheless pleased with her gift, she returned to the note. There were only a few lines left:

_Happy birthday, Rosie. I hope you enjoy your gift and put it to good use._

_I expect one of the first copies of your first crime report._

_\--Scorpius_

Rose caught herself smiling. The gift was such a Scorpius thing to do—only he would send her such a considerate gift that he had apparently spent a lot of time putting together and then wrap it up with a bit of mischievousness. It was exactly the mix of sweet and sour that she had come to expect from him.

(She was pretty sure that this was going to be her favorite gift, but she wasn't about to tell him that.)

******

Rose didn't see Scorpius—or many members of her family—until the party that night. She had been stolen away by Lily and Alice, who had wanted to make it a girl's day while the rest of the crew prepared for the party.

The two had asked Rose where the thesaurus had come from, and she told them Scorpius had sent it to her, but didn't elaborate. Lily and Alice exchanged knowing glances but didn't press the matter. The three girls talked, ate Rose's birthday candy, and discussed what Rose could buy with her birthday money for most of the day, only leaving to grab a quick bite to eat in the kitchens.

Then it was time for the party, and Lily and Alice had somehow gotten Rose to put on a cute, party-ready outfit instead of her usual weekend ensemble of t-shirts and sweatpants or jeans. Rose was still wearing jeans—she couldn't quite be talked into wearing a dress—but they were dark and form-fitting, making them look elegant and classy on her. She'd paired the jeans with a fitted, V-neck purple sweater and wore black boots to finish off the outfit. Lily had pulled some of Rose's hair back with the clip that her grandparents had gotten her, and so Rose's hair, not quite so bushy anymore but still curly and fairly wild, looked much better than the disheveled state it had been in after rolling around all afternoon on her bed laughing with her friends.

Rose had no idea why her friends were making such a big deal about what she was wearing to the party—only her family and friends would be in attendance, and there wasn't anyone there she needed to impress. She had planned on changing, yes, but she thought that Lily and Alice were going a little bit overboard. At least she had talked them out of wearing a dress—she might be turning seventeen but that wasn't a good enough excuse for Rose, who just wanted to be comfortable while spending time with her family and friends.

When the three arrived at the Room of Requirement, Al noticed Rose's arrival first and practically bolted to her, hugging her. "Happy birthday, Rosie!" he exclaimed.

"Thanks, Al," she said, laughing, "But why are you so happy to see me? Are you drunk?"

"No," Al said. "Now that you're here, we can get the party started and maybe James will quit setting off new pieces for Exploding Snap by my head, trying to see which one gets the best reaction. Now that you're here, I can't kill him. He was driving me barking mad."

Rose laughed again at her favorite cousin, making everyone else turn and notice her. They all wished her a very loud happy birthday, James setting off yet another piece for Exploding Snap in a kind of mini "celebration".

Rose went around and hugged all her cousins and a couple of other friends, thanking them for their gifts. She even hugged a surprised—but pleased—Scorpius.

"Careful, Weasley," he mumbled close to her ear while holding her tight. "Everyone might think you don't hate me anymore."

Rose blushed a little but chuckled quietly, moving slightly away from him. "Thanks, Scorpius, for my present. You really outdid yourself this year. I don't know how I'm going to follow up that in a couple of weeks for your birthday."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something. You always do," he said, his mouth turning upwards a little and squeezing her arm before letting go of her entirely.

"Time for cupcakes and cookies!" Lily yelled. For the past couple of years, Lily had always made the treats for Rose's party as part of her present for Rose. The house elves were glad to let Lily Potter take over their kitchen for a bit every year; she always let them have first choice of whatever treat she had decided to make.

Everyone headed to the table where the snacks and drinks were set up. "Careful, Al," James said around a mouthful of cookie. "Don't eat too much—you don't want a repeat of last year!"

"Don't remind me," Al said. "I didn't want to look at cookies for months."

"What happened last year?" asked Rose's former patrol partner and friend Nicholas, who had started dating Molly soon after the failed date to Hogsmeade with Rose the previous year.

"Al ate way too many cookies and got a major stomachache. I was just glad he left before he vomited all over everything," Rose said.

"Yeah, Albie here was fit to explode," said James, laughing. Al glared at his older brother, who grinned, showcasing a mouthful of sugar cookie.

"Now that's an idea," said Fred. "Exploding cupcakes!"

"We are not having exploding cupcakes. Do you know how long that would take to clean up?!" Rose countered. "Sometimes, I swear you two just want to ruin my birthday."

"Aww, Rosie, you can be such a party pooper. But don't worry, you're our favorite cousin. We'll save the exploding cupcakes for Al's birthday," James replied.

"Sometimes I think I need a new family," mumbled Al. "Or at least a new brother."

After that, things calmed down enough for everyone to go back to enjoying the party. James, predictably, grew bored again, and began setting off Exploding Snap pieces in Rose's ear.

Rose kept batting him away, but he kept messing with her. She was about to blow up and dump her drink on him when Scorpius came over. "Come here, I want to show you something.”

"What?" she said loudly. "I can't hear you! James may have permanently damaged my hearing…"

Scorpius just shook his head, grabbing Rose's wrist and dragging her over to one of the cookie tables.

"I want to show you something," he repeated as Rose shook her head to return her hearing to normal.

"What?" she asked.

"Look at this," he said, grabbing two sugar cookies and a small can of frosting that was sitting on the table. He took a plastic knife and spread some frosting on one cookie, then topped it with the other. "Cookie sandwich!"

"Looks like sugar overload to me," Rose said, although her eyes had brightened at the sweet treat.

"Oh please, Rose. It's your birthday. Live a little. You're not going to end up like Al," he said.

"I don't know," she replied. "I ate most of my birthday candy already—Lily and Alice helped me eat it, but I still had quite a bit." She eyed the cookie again and suddenly grabbed it from Scorpius' hand, taking a bite.

"Maybe you should have been a Seeker, with that quick move," Scorpius said, making himself a cookie sandwich.

"Oh Merlin," Rose gasped at the sugary confection. "This is wonderful." Her eyes widened even more and she smiled in bliss.

"Rose," said Scorpius, who was watching her enraptured face, completely forgetting about the cookies in his hand. "Do you and the cookies need to get a room, or will you be staying with your guests?"

She swallowed the last of the cookie. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

He chuckled at her. "You and your insatiable sweet tooth," he said, swiping gently at her nose to get some frosting off.

"Surely you didn't just bring me over here to get me all sugared up," Rose said.

"No, not exactly. Although your reaction was very amusing," Scorpius said. "I just wanted to make sure you really did like my present." It was his turn to look sheepish—apparently he really cared about her reaction to his gift.

"I already told you, you outdid yourself," said Rose.

"I know. I just didn't know if you were just saying that for everyone else's benefit."

"Scorp," said Rose softly, touching his arm. "It was a wonderful present. I absolutely loved it. It will definitely be useful—and not just after Hogwarts. I may even need to use it this year and next year—writing so many papers may just fry my brain."

"I don't think anything could ever fry your brain, Rosie," Scorpius said. "But I'm glad you like it and that you'll be able to use it soon."

Scorpius grinned cheekily. "Did you see all the highlighted words?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "How could I miss them? They practically had arrows pointing to them screaming "look at me!" It's a wonder you didn't highlight _arrogance_ or _irritation_ or words along those lines, if you want me to use them in our arguments."

Scorpius grinned again, though not as cheekily. "You know, some of those words I highlighted could be used to describe you as well."

Rose blushed, remembering that _beautiful_ and _passionate_ had been among the highlighted words.

"You really, truly like it, though?"

She sighed, growing exasperated with the fact that he just couldn't seem to understand that she really valued his gift. "Of course I do," she said. "It's the best gift you've ever gotten me."

He chuckled. "I think, from your perspective at least, it wouldn't be hard to judge the thesaurus as the best gift I've ever gotten you."

She couldn't help but smile. "You truly outdid yourself this time, Scorpius. I had no idea what you had gotten me when I realized the package was from you, but I definitely wasn't expecting a thesaurus—or for you to remember my reasoning for wanting to be a crime reporter."

He shrugged but she could detect a rising color in his cheeks. "Of course I remember," he said simply.

"Thank you, Scorp," Rose said softly, impulsively hugging him again. They both knew she was talking about more than the gift.

He squeezed her back. "You're welcome, love," he began just as softly, then continued slightly louder. "You really want everyone to think you don't hate me anymore, don't you?"

"What if I don't?" she asked cheekily.

He laughed, reluctantly pulling away from her and heading back toward the rest of the group. "Well, since my present to you went over so well, I guess that means I can get Al the present I was planning on getting him for Christmas," he told her.

"What kind of present would that be?" she asked.

"A dictionary," he said, trying to maintain a straight face, but couldn't help laughing when Rose threw back her head and laughed.

******

A little over two weeks after Rose's seventeenth birthday—October 26, to be exact—Scorpius woke up to his own deluge of presents. He'd received a new broom—the latest model, of course—from his parents, a broom-cleaning kit from Al, a Skiving Snackbox from James and Fred (though why they thought he needed one was beyond him) and all sorts of candy and tea from his other friends, including most of the rest of the Weasley-Potters.

Rose's present arrived last. He could tell that the object was a book, and this present also had a note attached to it. Giving Rose's owl a treat before sending it on its way, he sat back on his bed to open Rose's present. He should have been hurrying to get to breakfast and then class, but at that moment he just wanted to know what Rose had gotten him.

He opened up the note, seeing Rose's familiar handwriting:

_Scorpius,_

_Somehow, you've made it to being seventeen without being irreparably hexed, for which I suppose I have to congratulate you. You may have now earned the right to perform magic off of Hogwarts grounds, but please respect this bit of advice from your elders and refrain from suddenly Apparating with the sole intention of scaring the heck out of me._

Scorpius chuckled—he had been planning on doing exactly that. He dearly wanted to impulsively Apparate around Rose just to see the hilarious expression her face was bound to make when she was scared witless.

_And yes, being two weeks older than you does qualify me to be considered your elder._

_Anyway, on to your gift. I must admit for a couple of days, I had no idea how to top or even match your birthday gift to me. I know I've told you before, but it really was a wonderful gift, Scorpius. I didn't know you had it in you. Maybe you actually are maturing? (It's about time.)_

_Since not everyone has ready access to their Gringotts account, however, I'm afraid I couldn't spend an astronomical amount of money on your gift. Instead, I had Al take a quick peek at your stash of mystery novels (yes, I know you keep quite a few in your trunk), and to my surprise, he said you didn't have a single Sherlock Holmes story anywhere! For shame, Scorpius. All self-respecting mystery lovers must have Sherlock Holmes in their collection._

He opened the package, and sure enough, it was a book with the famous detective's profile imprinted on it. It was a hardbound book as well, but not quite the same quality as the book he had given her. (That didn't matter to him, however—he was just glad she had gotten him a gift, apparently one chosen with the same amount of care with which he had chosen her present.)

_And now, thanks to me, you do. I think you said once that you had read one or two stories; this is the omnibus edition. It contains all the stories and novels featuring this classic detective. My mum used to read these stories with me when I was younger. Once I was old enough, she bought me my own copy of the entire collection, just like the copy I'm giving you._

_You're lucky that we located this in time for your birthday. It took my mum about a week to track down a copy in a Muggle bookshop in London._

He was surprised at her gift—he knew she knew of his love of mystery novels, but had no idea that she liked reading detective stories as well. It shouldn't have surprised him, given how much she loved to read. He smiled to think of a little Rose sitting alongside a younger Hermione, who was reading Sherlock Holmes stories to her precocious daughter. It struck him that she had chosen to give him something that not only would probably mean a lot to him, but also obviously meant a lot to her as well. Plus, she had gone to the trouble of getting her mum to scour London's many bookshops just to find this copy, apparently identical to the copy she owned herself.

_So happy birthday, Scorpius. Enjoy the stories—they're classics, and Merlin knows you could use a little more exposure to classic literature, given your lack of knowledge about Jane Austen. Just please do not go trying to find a deerstalker hat of your own. It would not be attractive._

_Honestly, though, I think you'll have fun unraveling these mysteries. Let me know which stories you like the best._

_Rose_

_P.S. I really don't hate you anymore. (Most of the time, anyway.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please take the time to leave a review; they keep me motivated to write. I love seeing your responses.
> 
> Next chapter: in which there is a Yule Ball
> 
> (Any guesses on what's going to happen at the ball?)


	9. in which there is a Yule Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay! My laptop suddenly crashed about two weeks ago, and it couldn't be fixed, so I had to get a new laptop. Thankfully, I was able to retrieve all the files from my old laptop. While I was waiting to hear if my old laptop could be fixed, I started writing this chapter out by hand, but that's a slow process. Finally, last weekend, I had enough time to sit down and type up this chapter. It's a monster-it's longer than any of my oneshots, but I had a lot of ground to cover in this one. Again, I apologize for the delay, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it!
> 
> As always, thanks to the wonderful BeanerWeasley and Iloveplotbunnies for beta reading.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nine: Seventh Year, Part One

 

_:in which there is a Yule Ball, Rose has a dastardly date, and Scorpius does not say I told you so:_

 

Sixth year went by fast, in spite of N.E.W.T.s. Rose and Scorpius had both secured internships for the summer—she at the _Daily Prophet_ and he at St. Mungo’s. The internships lasted six weeks—most of the summer, but it would be valuable experience.

Since both were working in London and could now Apparate freely, they met for lunch as often as possible—at least once a week, sometimes more if Scorpius got another offsite lunch break.

Even on the days they weren’t able to meet for lunch, they still stayed in touch by sending owls at least twice a day. If something went wrong or went well at work, the other was always the first to know.

Rose was the first to know when a patient on Scorpius’ floor had succumbed to their injuries. She had always known that he would make a good Healer, but reading his note and seeing his anguish the next day at lunch touched her. He really did care for the people on his floor, even though they were not technically under his care. He felt even worse for the families. Rose comforted him as best she could. The experience had definitely shaken him, but did not lessen his resolve to be a Healer.

Similarly, Scorpius was the first to know when someone had told Rose that the only reason she had gotten the internship was because of her famous parents and uncle. Affronted, Rose had firmly stated that even though she was the daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, she had obtained the internship on the merits of her writing and skills alone, and expected to be treated accordingly. Scorpius had taken her to lunch, where she recounted the scene in more detail. He was proud of her for standing up for her right to be seen as an individual—not that she would have done anything else. However, the idea that people might think she would ride her name and family fame to success—or that people might try to latch onto her for the same reason—rattled Rose.

Soon enough, it was time to return to Hogwarts for their final year. Scorpius and Rose had been made Head Boy and Girl, much to the amusement of their friends—Scorp and Rose sharing living quarters for an entire year? Surely something would _finally_ happen between the two erstwhile rivals, now friends, who had been dancing around each other for _ages_.

Part of their shared duties as Heads was to plan the Yule Ball. Hogwarts held the Yule Ball every few years now to ensure that every student had the chance to attend.

Scorpius and Rose had delegated much of the planning to the prefects, but Rose insisted on keeping a few areas for themselves because she didn’t trust anyone else with them.

Between N.E.W.T. classes, tutoring, Head duties, and planning for the Yule Ball, Rose was beginning to run herself ragged. She had given up Quidditch, partly because of time constraints, and partly because she was beginning to get burnt out. When Hugo protested, she said she still wanted to enjoy summer Quidditch games with her family and she wouldn’t be able to do that if she remained on the Gryffindor team. She still went to the games, of course, and no longer felt bad about openly cheering for Albus and Scorpius.

One morning, Rose woke up late—she had slept on the couch after falling asleep while working on homework, and the couch was not conducive to a good night’s sleep. She woke up grumpy and with a sore neck and back.

When she finally made it to the Great Hall for breakfast, she was met by the faces of the Weasley-Potters, Alice, and Scorpius.

Even though she was barely awake, she could tell that Al, Hugo, Lily, and Alice were trying not to laugh. She didn’t think much of it, though—she knew her hair was a mess because she hadn’t had enough time to do anything with it except to throw it up on her head in a loose bun.

Scorpius, however, had no such compunctions. “Good to finally see your shining face this morning, Rosie,” he said in an overly happy tone.

Rose turned to glare at him, and he acted like he was being blinded. “I know you’re working overtime on the Yule Ball, trying to get all the decorations in order, but there’s no reason to make yourself into a decoration. You’re pretty enough already,” he mumbled the last bit. Rose raised an eyebrow, blushing a little—she _had_ heard his last comment.

“You’ve got glitter all over your face, Rosie,” said Al.

“Yes, and though you may now be aspiring to be a Christmas decoration, your hair isn’t the right shade of Christmas red.”

Rose paused, fork laden with pancakes halfway to her mouth. “Watch it, Malfoy,” she grumbled. “I know where you sleep.”

Scorpius raised his eyebrows, but quickly rejoined, his eyes twinkling:

“Why, Weasley, care to join me?”

Rose blinked, blushed, then automatically countered:

“I hate you.”

Scorpius could tell she didn’t truly mean it—her tone held more tiredness and a bit of exasperated fondness than actual hate—but her words still stunned him nonetheless.

He quickly recovered, however. “Aww, you’re crazy about me, Rosie.”

“Crazy _because_ of you,” she muttered.

“Or just crazy,” he offered.

She glared at him, and Scorpius quickly backtracked. “All right, all right. I’m sorry. No teasing until after you’ve eaten.”

“Is she always like this first thing in the morning?” Scorpius asked Al.

“Only sometimes,” Al answered. “But you have the ability to rile her up like no one else.”

******

Surprisingly—or maybe not so surprisingly—Rose and Scorpius got along well as suitemates. The Heads’ dorm consisted of a common room; a bedroom on either side of the common room, each raised a level above that room; and a bathroom between the two bedrooms. The headmaster had explained that while Rose and Scorpius were allowed in each other’s rooms during the day if given express permission, at night—between the hours of midnight and 6 a.m.—neither could enter the other’s bedroom except in cases of sickness or danger.

Scorpius and Rose had both blushed at the implication of such a restriction, saying that there was nothing like that going on between them.

It really wasn’t that much of an adjustment to share living quarters with Scorpius. He had spent so much time at the Burrow and the Potters’ over the years that Rose quickly became accustomed to having Scorpius around all the time. She enjoyed it, in fact. She liked knowing that he was the first person she would see every morning and the last person she would see every night.

(Plus, he had a habit of walking around in their common room wearing just pajama pants, giving Rose a full view of his toned chest and arms. She didn’t mind in the least—in fact, she often caught herself wondering how it would feel to have his lean, strong arms wrapped around her.)

It still sometimes surprised Rose how Scorpius had gone from being her constant rival and bane of her existence to being someone she counted among her closest friends, someone she cared for very deeply.

(She knew what she was feeling; she had realized just exactly how much she cared for Scorpius over the summer. However, she was reluctant to attach _that_ word to her feelings, even in her own mind. As a writer, she was profoundly aware of the importance of words, and she was reluctant to even acknowledge that word in regards to Scorpius because she knew that once she had, there would be no going back. She wasn’t quite ready for that.

Even though deep down, she knew that she was already past the point of no return.)

******

A couple of days after her eighteenth birthday, Rose found herself unable to concentrate on her homework because she was too busy fretting about the ball—specifically, her inability to dance.

(As he had always been able to do, Scorpius soon realized that something was bothering her, although he wasn’t about to exploit whatever it was, like he had done in the past.)

Rose was lost in her thoughts when Scorpius’ voice broke into her reverie.

“What’s wrong, Rose?”

Rose sighed, debating whether to tell him. She figured he would find out sooner or later, so she decided to just tell him.

“Idon’tknowhowtodance,” she said in a rush.

“You don’t?” Scorpius said, surprised. “No one ever taught you?” he asked as he moved closer to her on the couch.

Rose glared, but not at him in particular. “Apparently I’m too clumsy, and no one saw the need for it anyway.”

Scorpius laughed. “Yes, I seem to remember you toppling off the dock at the lake near the Burrow when we were fourteen.”

“That was because you pushed me!”

Scorpius grinned mischievously, hinting at the fourteen-year-old he’d been. “Technicalities.”

Rose couldn’t help but roll her eyes, albeit in an amused and fond manner.

“I also remember you resurfacing and grabbing me by the ankles to pull me in,” Scorpius continued.

“I used to wish you’d hit your head on the bottom,” Rose grumbled, remembering.

“You’re deliberately evading the issue,” Scorpius accused. “You really don’t know how to dance?”

“No. And you know we have to open the Ball.”

“I know.”

Rose lapsed into her thoughts, trying to think of a solution.

Scorpius, apparently, had thought of a solution himself, judging by the smirk that slowly began to spread over his face. “Well, Rosie?”

He had only said two words, but immediately Rose knew what he was thinking. It seemed that both of them had come up with the same solution.

Rose sighed, trying to prolong the inevitable. Finally, she answered.

“Willyouteachmetodance?” she said softly.

“What’s that?” Scorpius asked, grinning. Rose knew he had heard her, but of course he was going to make things difficult.

“Will you teach me to dance?” she asked louder.

“No need to yell, Rose. I’m right here. And of course I’ll teach you to dance.”

She couldn’t help but give him a small smile, which he returned.

“When can we start?” she asked.

“Right now, if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I just have to find some music…” He went over to the wall of cabinets and shelves, looking through them until he pulled out an old record player and some records. He searched through the records that Rose guessed was suitable for dancing and placed the record on the turnstile. He cast a charm that would enable the record to play on repeat until he or Rose stopped it.

Scorpius returned to where Rose was now standing and held out his hands to her.

“Take my hands,” he instructed gently, and she slipped her small hands into his much larger ones.

“All right,” he began, then paused to think for a minute. “Now, I’m going to teach you the basic step. Master this, and you can dance pretty much any dance.”

She nodded, and he continued. “This is called the box step. Now, step to your right, then step backward, then step to your left, then step forward. You should end up right where you started.”

Rose followed his instructions, Scorpius stepping along with her. “Good,” he said. “Again.”

They performed the box step a few more times, until Scorpius decided that Rose had gotten the hang of it. “Now we’ll assume the actual dancing position.” He let go of one hand. “Put your hand on my shoulder.” She did so, feeling tingles where her fingers brushed against his neck. He briefly closed his eyes at her touch, then opened them as he snaked his arm about her waist, tugging her closer.

She had hugged Scorpius before, of course—quite a few times—but something was different about this. He held her gently but firmly—he wasn’t about to let her go. His long fingers had wrapped themselves around the swell of her hip instead of resting at the small of her back. She looked up at him and he smiled softly at her before beginning the first steps of the dance.

She was sure that she stepped on his foot a couple of times, but to his credit, he didn’t say a thing about it.

“Dancing is kind of like arguing, you see,” he said after a few moments, breaking the comfortable silence.

“How?” Rose was a little confused.

“Well, if I step forward—” he did so while speaking—“you automatically take a step back.” He was right—she had done so. “And if you step forward,” he said as she stepped closer, “I step back. We go round and round, give and take, pushing and pulling, always in sync, always answering the other’s moves. See? Just like when you and I argue.”

Rose hadn’t thought about it that way before, but it made sense. She smirked up at him. “I’m guessing from your ability to pull off an extended metaphor that you’re reading more literature.”

He just grinned at her, not even taking the bait.

“You know, there’s another similarity between arguing and dancing,” she mused.

“What’s that?”

“You’re good at both,” she admitted.

He squeezed her waist. “So are you.”

******

Scorpius continued to teach Rose how to dance at least one night a week for the weeks leading up to the ball. He taught her fast dances, slow dances, and ones in between. Rose really enjoyed dancing with Scorpius. He was a good teacher, he made it fun, and she loved getting to hold him and being held by him in return.

Being in Scorpius’ arms just felt right.

******

Surprisingly, Scorpius _didn’t_ ask Rose to be his date to the ball. She wanted him to ask her—pretty much expected it—but the invitation never came. She could have asked Scorpius herself, she supposed, but she wanted Scorpius to ask her. She prided herself on being an independent woman—she wasn’t the daughter of Hermione Granger-Weasley for nothing—but she still stuck to a bit of tradition in wanting Scorpius to be the one to ask. Even her mother had wanted her father to ask her to the Yule Ball in their fourth year.

Instead, someone else asked her.

Flattered (and secretly hoping that Scorpius would wake up and take notice), Rose accepted the offer from a young man she had befriended midway through spring term of sixth year during a shared project.

His name was Christopher Wickham, and although he was a Slytherin, Rose couldn’t find any fault with him.

The same couldn’t be said for Scorpius, Al, and Hugo.

Somehow, the three had heard about Wickham asking Rose to the ball, and had cornered her about it soon after. Scorpius and Al knew him because he was a fellow Slytherin, and Hugo said that Wickham’s sister was in his year. All three were concerned about Rose going to the ball with her fellow seventh-year, and she demanded to know why.

“Well, Rose…” Scorpius started, obviously uncomfortable with the topic. “Wickham doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to girls. Al and I have seen him flirt with many girls as a ruse to, well, get in their skirts.”

“It’s true, Rose,” Al said before she could respond to Scorpius’ accusations. “I can’t tell you how many times he’s come in bragging because he finally got some girl to snog him senseless in a broom closet or sleep with him.”

“His sister’s not much better,” supplied Hugo. “She’s a huge flirt. Not many people take her seriously.”

“I thought you were going to stay out of my relationships,” Rose accused Scorpius.

“I am. I have no intention of interrogating Wickham like I did to Nicholas. I would rather my robes remain Butterbeer-free. I just want you to be on guard if you still insist on going with him to the ball,” Scorpius replied.

“We all do,” said Al. “We know it’s ultimately up to you on whether you go to the ball with him or not, but we wanted you to know up front just in case he tries to pull something on you.”

Rose hadn’t been sure about Scorpius’ comment because of his track record of openly interfering with her relationships, but if Al and Hugo were also concerned, that made things a little different. She wasn’t going to back out of the date, but she would definitely be on guard. She would never let him do anything that she didn’t want him to do, anyway. However, she still had a couple of points to get across to the three young men with her.

“I can take care of myself,” she said pointedly.

“We know you can,” said Scorpius. “I know that better than anyone, especially when it comes to your right hook,” he couldn’t help but grumble. “We just want you to be careful. You deserve better.”

Rose sighed. “Will it make you all feel better if I tell you I’ll be on guard around him? I’m not backing out of the date—he’s just a friend, honestly—but I will keep my eyes open.”

“Good,” said Al. “That does make us feel a little better. Although you should know, just being so-called “friends” with girls hasn’t stopped him from making advances before, even when he supposedly already has a girlfriend. He’s worse than James.”

That surprised Rose. James had been notorious for dating girls, just like his grandfather and namesake, but he had always broken up with a girl before starting another relationship.

“Just watch out for yourself, Rose,” said Hugo. “Use Aunt Ginny’s Bat-Bogey Hex if you have to.”

“Or your right hook,” said Scorpius. “Guaranteed to ruin his night, if you aim just right.”

“I already said I’d be on guard, okay?” Rose said.

She turned to leave, but couldn’t resist getting a slight dig in at Scorpius. “You know, Scorp, if you’re so worried about who’s taking me to the ball, why didn’t you just ask me yourself?”

If she had stuck around, she would have seen Scorpius redden slightly and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance and Al tell him, “She got you there, mate.”

******

Finally, the day of the Yule Ball arrived. Alice, Lily, Rose, and Roxanne spent the afternoon in Rose’s room and the common room of the Heads’ suite getting ready for the ball. Rose didn’t see why they needed an entire afternoon to prepare—she only would need an hour or so, and most of that she expected to spend working on her hair. She had fun getting ready with her friends, though, as they talked about their plans for the night while experimenting with makeup and hair styles.

Rose loved her dress. It had been a gift from her parents for her eighteenth birthday, which saved her from having to spend hours in shops in Hogsmeade to find a suitable dress. Her mother had chosen well: the dress was a deep royal purple that complemented Rose’s skin tone and hair. The dress had a sweetheart neckline that enhanced but did not expose. The neckline transitioned into a deep V in the back, with the point of the V resting just below the middle of Rose’s back, showing off an expanse of creamy white skin. The top of the dress fit her like a glove before flaring slightly out at her hips and falling in straight lines to the floor. Lily had taken charge of Rose’s hair, making a short waterfall braid on the right side of Rose’s head before capturing the rest of Rose’s wild hair into a chignon that rested behind her right ear. Rose wore light makeup and the pearl earrings her Grandma Granger had given her for her seventeenth birthday as well as a small rose pendant that was also an eighteenth birthday gift—this one from Scorpius.

Finally, the girls were all ready to go: Lily in a champagne-colored number, Alice in maroon and Roxanne in a sky blue that went well with her darker skin. They had planned to meet their dates at the entrance to the Great Hall. Lily and Roxanne were both going with friends of theirs, although Rose knew that Lily had a crush on her date. Al was taking Alice since the two of them had started dating soon after seventh year had started. Christopher was waiting on Rose with the other boys, and his brown eyes darkened upon seeing his date.

“Rose, you look _enchanting_ ,” said Christopher, offering his arm to escort her into the hall, stealing glances at her along the way, eyes continuing to darken. She thanked him; he was charming, although not as charming as Scorpius. He was a good friend and she liked spending time with him; accompanying him to the ball, while not as desirous as attending with Scorpius, was still a better alternative than attending stag.

Scorpius himself was going stag, which surprised Rose. His bevy of fangirls had not lessened over the years, and she was sure that many of them had lined up in the hopes that he would take one of them to the dance. Rose had asked him about it, and he had told her that the girl he wanted to take was already attending with someone else, and that he would rather go alone if he couldn’t go with her. He then said that he knew he would dance with this girl at least once during the ball; she had promised him a dance and he aimed to hold her to it.

Rose was a little upset that Scorpius had apparently wanted to ask someone else to the ball, someone other than her. (She didn’t notice the reddening of his face when he told her why he was attending alone, or she would have known that _she_ was the girl he was talking about.)

Rose, of course, had to open the ball by dancing with Scorpius. Christopher, to his credit, didn’t seem to mind too much, and had headed towards a group of his friends while Rose searched for Scorpius.

He found her first, eyes widening at the sight of her in fancy dress and silently extending his hand. She looped her arm through his and he led her to the dance floor, facing her and taking her hand. “You look stunning, Rose,” he breathed.

She couldn’t help it; she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I mean it, love,” he said just as softly, slipping an arm around her. This time, his hand came to rest in the middle of her back, his thumb landing on the bare skin just above the V of her dress. A shiver ran up her spine at his touch and continued as he started to rub small circles into her skin.

She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You look good too, Scorp.”

That was an understatement. Scorpius looked impossibly handsome in his dark dress robes, dark dress shirt, and deep green tie that set off his flawless skin and immaculate hair.

(Really, she thought it was ridiculous that he had better hair than she did.)

He knew just how good he looked. “Just good, Rose? Where’s your arsenal of adjectives? “Good” is far below a writer of your caliber,” he teased.

“Fine, you look dashing. But you don’t need to tell me that you look handsome. You know it, and your ego doesn’t need any more fuel, Scorpius.”

“I don’t know, it’s still nice to hear,” he said, smirking a little, making him look even better, if that was possible. “And as for that ego, you keep saying that my head is going to get so big that I’m going to float away one of these days, and yet I’m still here.”

“It would be nice if you could float—that would have saved us a lot of trouble when hanging decorations.” She grinned—only she and Scorpius would bicker while dancing.

He grinned down at her, tugging her even closer, if it was even possible to do so. His eyes were filled with mirth and something else that she had noticed in his eyes before but had long been afraid to define.

He looked at her as if he had just been told he would go blind in a matter of minutes and wanted her to be the last thing he ever saw.

Looking at his dear, mischievous face, knowing that he was the only person she ever wanted to bicker with, knowing that no one challenged her like he did, relishing the feel of his arms around her, she finally allowed herself to admit it.

She loved him.

She was in love with this witty, intelligent, charming, funny, incorrigible, arrogant yet good-hearted man.

The hand that was resting on his shoulder moved of its own accord, coming up to rest on his cheek, her thumb brushing against his jawline. His breath hitched slightly at her touch, and she brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheeks before returning them to their place on his shoulder.

The first song came to an end, but neither of them moved. The next song was a bit faster than the waltz they had opened up with, but still not super fast. They continued to dance, wrapped up in each other, Scorpius smirking a bit. She had always wanted to slap that smirk off his face, but just then she had a new urge—to kiss that smirk off his face. She wanted to snog him senseless, but the middle of the Great Hall was no place for that. For now, she was just content to remain in his arms.

She knew he cared for her deeply, but wasn’t quite sure how deep his feelings ran. She decided to keep her revelation to herself for a while. In the meantime, she’d enjoy dancing with him, the feel of him against her, the sensations she felt as his thumb continued to caress her bare skin.

The second song ended, and reluctantly she pulled away. She had remembered that she wasn’t here with Scorpius, no matter how much she wanted that to be true. She would rather spend the night dancing and hanging out with Scorpius and the rest of her friends, but she needed to at least spend part of the night with her date—he was her friend too, and she felt obligated to find him.

She told Scorpius so, and he nodded and pulled away. “Just promise me we’ll dance more later,” he said. “We haven’t danced to a really fast song yet, and those are the fun ones.”

“You just want to see if you can fling me across the room, Scorp,” Rose said teasingly. “I’d rather not careen into the punch table if I can help it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t sling you around in here—much,” Scorpius answered, eyes twinkling. “I’d rather save that for the common room.”

Rose blushed a little and told Scorpius she’d see him later. He nodded and bowed with a great flourish over her hand. She chuckled at his ridiculousness and walked away, looking for Christopher.

******

She found him a little ways away, talking to some friends. “There you are, Rose,” he said with a smile.

“Sorry,” Rose said sheepishly. “I lost track of time.”

Christopher excused himself from his friends and held out his hand to Rose. She took it, wondering why Scorpius, Al, and Hugo had been so concerned when he had asked her to the ball. He hadn’t overstepped his boundaries in any way.

He gathered her to him quickly and started dancing. Rose noticed that his hold on her was different from Scorpius’. Christopher was pretty much clutching her to him, almost possessively. His hand on her back was a little lower than she would like, but it hadn’t reached inappropriate territory. His hold was too strong; she felt almost trapped.

She noticed that he didn’t even try to talk to her, which was weird, considering that they had always had an ample supply of things to talk about before. He just stared at her face and form, eyes darkening again like they had when he first saw her. She vaguely recognized that look—it was lust, and it unnerved her a little bit.

Slowly, she began to realize that he was maneuvering her slowly across the room, away from the other couples. They had made it to a support column before she even realized it, and he thrust her roughly against the column before attacking her lips with his overeager mouth.

She squirmed; she did not want this at all. It was too much. Even if she hadn’t been in love with Scorpius, she wouldn’t have wanted to be attacked like this, as if she was just some body that would gratify the boy in front of her for a short while without even giving a thought to how she felt about the whole situation.

Evidently, he took her squirming for passion, for he slipped one hand where it had been gripping her shoulder down her back, fumbling around the top of her dress, apparently looking for the zipper. His other hand came up to skim her side, clumsily pawing at her breast.

She felt violated and stupid. This was why Scorpius, Al, and Hugo had warned her about Wickham—and she hadn’t really given their concern much thought. She hadn’t believed that the nice boy who helped her with class projects and made her laugh (though not as much as Scorpius) could be such a forceful lecher who was evidently just trying to get under her dress.

Her shock turned to anger, and that gave her enough strength to push him away from her. “What are you _doing_?” she spat.

“I thought that was obvious, Rose. I want you.”

If he thought his words would make her weak at the knees, she was mistaken.

He continued, taking her silence for acquiescence. “You look delectable,” he said with a leer.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a cream-filled pastry,” Rose sneered.

“Oh, c’mon, Rose, you had to know what such a dress would do to a guy. I couldn’t help but react.”

Those words incensed her even more than his actions, if that was possible. How dare he blame her for his lack of self-control? It wasn’t like she’d been flaunting herself in front of him, and even if she had, that was no excuse for his behavior.

“I wore this dress because I wanted to look elegant and feel beautiful, not as an excuse for you to try and paw me.”

“Oh, so I’m your date and I can’t touch you, but Malfoy over there is allowed to have his hands on you?”

That angered Rose even more. He was a bloody idiot (and she wasn’t much better, in her opinion).

“We were _dancing_. And he’s a _gentleman_. And how dare you bring Scorpius into this? This is between you and me. Scorpius isn’t a part of this.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that when you’re concerned, Malfoy makes things his business.”

“At least he’s my friend. You were just using me.”

“Oh, come on, Rose, lighten up. You’re too tense all the time; you need a good snog, maybe more, to loosen up. I’m offering; that’s more than most of these other blokes could say.”

She had to get out of there before she smacked him senseless. She didn’t relish the idea of getting detention, even though a part of her said it would be worth it.

She turned to leave, and he shot out a hand that clamped itself over her wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you. You have no manners. You had no right to force me, especially in front of everyone!”

“Seduction and force are two different things,” he said nonchalantly, not even bothered by her accusation.

“They aren’t if the other party isn’t willing,” she shot back, yanking her arm away from him and storming away.

******

She made it over to where Al and Alice were sitting. Lily’s date had apparently ditched her for his ex-girlfriend, who he was trying to win back, and Scorpius had taken Lily out to dance. Rose felt a clench in her gut at the idea that Scorpius and Lily were dancing, but she knew that Scorpius only thought of Lily as the little sister he never had and was just trying to make a bad situation better.

Plus, given the way Scorpius had looked at her earlier, Rose was sure he didn’t have feelings for Lily.

Al and Alice looked concerned at her arrival. She quickly explained that Christopher wasn’t the gentleman she thought he was. Al had clenched his fists and had made to go off and find the git, but Rose wouldn’t allow it.

After a few minutes, Scorpius had shown back up, looking at her with concern and his jaw setting into a hard line when she told him what she had told Al and Alice. She could tell that he knew that there was more to the story than she was letting on, but he didn’t press her, for which she was grateful.

Rose went to get them all drinks, realizing about halfway there that her path would take her past Christopher and his friends. Squaring her shoulders, she was almost past them when she heard something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

“So what are you going to do about Weasley?” said an unfamiliar male voice.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to charm my way back into her life. My plans are too important to give up. No girl can resist me for long, anyway.”

That was Christopher.

“Do you think the girl will go along with your plans? She is pretty smart,” said a female voice, also unknown.

“She hasn’t figured them out so far,” Christopher answered in a smug tone. “And I never planned to let her in on them in the first place. She wouldn’t help—her morals are much too strong to go along with my schemes. It’ll be more fun to blindside her anyway, watch her expression when she realizes that I’ve just been cozying up to her to get an in at the Ministry. There’s no doubt she has a nice body, but honestly, the most she has going for her is her family name.”

Rose choked on her breath, aghast at Christopher’s nonchalant way of admitting to using her connections and name to rise in the Ministry.

She saw such a slight as an insult not only to her, but to her family as well. And to Rose, insulting her family—especially in such a way—was one of the most despicable things a person could do.

Forgetting the drinks, she stalked up to her “date” and his cronies. “You vile, loathsome, conniving piece of _scum_ ,” she spat, fuming.

The people across from her—all Slytherins—looked surprised at her words.

Christopher didn’t even try to deny it. “Oh, so you heard my plan, did you, Rose? Ingenious, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not,” Rose sneered. “You’re despicable. Why would you do such a thing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Your mother is a leading candidate to be the next Minister of Magic. I want to rise through the ranks. I get close to you, get closer to a high position.” His tone held no remorse; it was casual, as if they were talking about the next day’s plans.

She was vaguely aware of gasps and scuffles of feet coming from behind her. She guessed that Al, Alice, Lily, Scorpius, and maybe Hugo had come up behind her, ready to defend her if necessary. She had a feeling that at least one of the boys would have jumped in already if it hadn’t been for someone holding them back. She was grateful, but she had other matters to attend to.

“You honestly believed that would work? And why would you rather attach yourself to me in hopes of rising through the ranks instead of working hard to achieve your goals?”

“I have always been instructed to use the resources at my disposal,” he said calmly. This infuriated Rose even more—he had the audacity to refer to her as a resource, not a person. A tool, something to be used as a means to an end.

“I thought we were friends.” She couldn’t help it; the words just slipped out.

He laughed, a cold, heartless laugh. “No, we weren’t, not really. You were helpful in projects, I’ll give you that, but you talk too much, and about the most inane things. I could care less about literature. I tuned you out whenever you got on that subject. I wanted something else from you—something that required much less talking.”

Rose’s blood boiled at his blatant innuendo. Wickham—she would no longer refer to him as Christopher—continued. “If you had decided to talk about the Ministry, then that would have been one thing. But you rarely did.”

“With an attitude like yours, you would have never made it in the Ministry. The Ministry is supposed to be about laws and order, not using people for your own personal gain.”

“The Ministry was like that before,” Christopher said. “Maybe it should be so again.”

“You disgust me,” said Rose. “I can’t believe I ever liked you—not romantically, never that, but as a friend.

“And I can’t believe you thought you would get away with this. My mother would have figured out your scheme in a heartbeat.”

“Well, by that time, hopefully I would have risen far enough to be secure in a position—and by that time, I probably would have cast you aside as well. I always planned to, once I was secure enough.”

“You have no feelings, no remorse?”

“Of course not.”

“You are the most abominable person I have ever come across. How dare you use me—my worth is tied to more than my body and my name. I am Rose, and that should be enough.”

She reached for her wand, concealed in a hidden pocket in her dress. She hadn’t reached for it before now because she hadn’t wanted to be sentenced to who knows how many detentions, but he deserved whatever punishment was coming to him and then some.

“Since you think you’re so high and mighty, why don’t you just spend the rest of the ball looking down at us peasants?” She pointed her wand at him, muttered “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” and watched, satisfied, as her dastardly date rose in the air, flailing and shrieking. She uttered another charm, ensuring that he would stay up there for the rest of the night, and turned around.

Sure enough, her friends were there, looking shocked at Rose’s actions and Wickham’s words. “I charmed him to stay up there for the rest of the night. In about thirty minutes, if I’m not back, will you charm him to hang upside down for a while?” she asked Lily, who merely nodded. Al and Hugo were already heading towards the young man hanging suspended in the air, intent on giving him a piece of their minds. Scorpius just looked at her with a mix of pride and hurt.

She turned to rush out the door, heading for the hallway, where she finally collapsed in a burst of sobs.

******

It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps coming her way. “Rose?” she heard Scorpius’ voice call her. “Rose?”

She was tucked into a corner, sitting on a bench—not far from the same spot, she realized, where Scorpius had confronted her in their fourth year after the marshmallow spider incident.

She looked up and he spotted her, face immediately softening at her tearstained face. “Rose,” he said quietly, walking over to her and putting his arms around her.

She started to cry again, and he squeezed her tighter. “Rose, please. Don’t cry over him. He’s not worth it.”

She spoke into his chest. “I’m not crying over _him_ , per say. I meant it when I said I never saw him in a romantic light. I was flattered by his offer to take me to the ball, yes, but I was also irritated because the person I most wanted to ask me to the ball never asked.

“His words and actions _hurt_ ,” she said, choking on another sob, and she felt him start to rub her arm comfortingly. “But honestly, what hurts more is that he saw me as just a means to an end. He didn’t see me as anything but a body and a name, not an actual person with thoughts and feelings.

“I know I’m a Weasley, and I can’t run away from that. I don’t want to—I’m proud of my name, proud of my family. But I am also Rose, and if he didn’t see that….”

“If he doesn’t love you, he’s thicker than I thought,” Scorpius said gruffly. “You’re a wonderful person, Rose. Don’t ever forget that. What he thinks doesn’t matter.”

“I just…” she trailed off, feeling silly.

“You just what?” Scorpius said softly.

“I just…if he only saw my family name and my body, and he played the part of admirer and friend so well, how am I supposed to find someone who loves me for _me_ , and not what I can bring to them?”

“That person is closer than you think,” Scorpius said enigmatically.

“You can say it, you know,” Rose said after a moment.

“Say what?” Scorpius’ voice sounded a little nervous.

“I told you so.”

“I’m not going to,” Scorpius said.

“You’re not?!” Rose said, surprised, lifting her head from its comfortable spot on his chest.

“No, I’m not,” he said, looking a little hurt that she would doubt him. “I never thought he would pull something like this, the vile little…” Scorpius trailed off, calling Wickham every choice word he could think of.

Rose settled back against him, hearing his heartbeat thudding against her ear. “Rose,” Scorpius began again, caressing her name. “Rose, you’re worth much more than your name or what you look like. You’re intelligent and witty and stubborn and loyal—and beautiful,” he said, almost whispering that last word. He held her tight, and Rose felt something brush across her forehead—Scorpius’ lips in a gentle caress.

He squeezed her again and pulled back slightly. “Now, Rose Minerva Weasley, are you really going to let such a contemptible person ruin your night, or are you going to go back in the Great Hall and show him how much you don’t need the attention or good will of someone like him? You’re strong, Rose. Don’t let him get you down.”

“Thanks, Scorp,” Rose said softly, getting up off the bench. “I’ll go back in—if you dance with me.”

“Of course I will,” he said. “I haven’t gotten to fling you into the punch table yet, remember?”

She couldn’t help but grin at his comment. “There’s that smile,” he said fondly.

She tugged on his hand, leading him back in the hall. When they entered, they stopped to survey the scene—most were dancing, but Al and Hugo were still yelling at Wickham, who was now spinning in circles in the air—apparently Lily had enacted her own revenge.

“You know,” came Scorpius’ voice from her side, “We could always throw _him_ to the Giant Squid.”

Rose threw back her head and laughed. “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had, Scorp!”

He grinned. “I have my moments.”

******

Rose circled her arms around Scorpius’ neck, his arms coming around her waist. They had danced for most of the rest of the night after returning to the ball, and now it was the last dance of the night. He held her close, her head on his shoulder, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being held by him.

She felt something touch her hair—Scorpius’ lips again. She sighed in contentment, caressing the back of his neck.

His concern for her and his comments earlier had made her think that there was a strong possibility that he loved her as much as she loved him. He had said that someone who loved her for _her_ was closer than she thought, and at that moment, no one had been closer to her than Scorpius. When she thought over his actions from the past year or two, that possibility became stronger.

Yet, for some reason, he had never said it outright, preferring to leave enigmatic comments and to show her he cared by his actions.

She wanted to be with him, wanted it more than she ever thought possible. She loved him dearly, this incorrigible man who knew her better than anyone else.

For years, she had wanted him to leave her alone—or at least that was what she told herself—and yet now, nothing could be further from the truth.

She was a Gryffindor, she decided. If she needed to be the one to act, she would.

The dance came to an end, and she made a decision.

“Scorp,” she said softly, pulling away from him slightly to look into his gray eyes. “Will you come with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I left it on a cliffhanger! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please take the time to leave a review-your comments keep me motivated to write.
> 
> Next chapter: in which there is a new turn of phrase
> 
> I bet you all can figure out what the new turn of phrase will be, but who do you think will say it first? Let me know in a review, along with any other comments/questions you may have!


	10. in which there is a new turn of phrase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the chapter you've all been waiting for! I hope you enjoy it-this is a big one.
> 
> Thanks to all who have left kudos and comments.
> 
> Thanks to my ever-wonderful betas, BeanerWeasley and Iloveplotbunnies. Their support and comments have been invaluable.
> 
> Most of the end scene was what this story has been based around this entire time. I wrote the basis of that scene first and have built the story around it. I'm quite partial to that scene-hope you all like it!
> 
> And now:

Chapter Ten: Seventh Year, Part Two

_“I hate you…so much I think it must be true love.”_   
_\--“True Love,” P!nk feat. Lily Allen_

 

_:in which there is a new turn of phrase:_

 

Scorpius thanked his lucky stars when he found out that he and Rose were Head Boy and Girl.

He had thought he was lucky when he had secured an internship at St. Mungo’s and was thus able to take the first steps towards becoming a Healer, something he had wanted to be since he was very young.

He had thought he was lucky when his internship allowed him to spend much of the summer in London not too far from where Rose was serving her own internship, thus allowing them to meet for lunch often.

That summer had only cemented his feelings for her as their friendship had grown. He really enjoyed spending time with her; she was a true and loyal friend and could always be counted upon for a good laugh.

So the prospect of working together with Rose and sharing living quarters with her for an entire year seemed to be Merlin-sent. He would get to see her more often than before, which was saying something, considering how much time they’d spent in each other’s vicinity and then company over the years.

(The idea that he would get to see her at her most relaxed—pajamas and even messier hair than usual—didn’t hurt either. He found her appearance at those times endearing.)

******

It was sad, in a way, that this would be his, Rose’s, and Al’s last year at Hogwarts. He knew they would remain friends even after graduation—friends like them were hard to find—but their future jobs were sure to take up much of their time. Even so, Scorpius, ever the schemer, had a plan.

Al was planning on becoming an Auror. Scorpius had joked that if Al was going to prevent and assess crime, then he could heal Al’s inevitable injuries and Rose could write about their escapades.

“ _Your_ escapades?” Rose had asked, incredulous, gesturing between Scorpius and Al. “As in both of you?”

“Well, of course,” Scorpius answered, like she should already know what he was talking about. “There has to be a mention of the brilliant Healer Scorpius Malfoy in your article, Rosie. And since I’m around the Weasleys and Potters all the time, I’m bound to get into a few scrapes here and there.”

“If only there was a cure for egocentricity,” grumbled Rose. “Scorp, just stick to what you’re good at.”

“Oh, you mean annoying you?” he asked with a self-righteous grin.

“I _meant_ working as a Healer, although you are definitely the best at annoying me. I— _we_ —don’t want you getting hurt, and knowing you, you are bound to do something reckless and cause more trouble than absolutely necessary. Let more levelheaded people like Al handle such things.”

“Rose, I’m touched at your concern for me,” said Scorpius. “And I suppose you wouldn’t make it as an Auror either, if one of the requirements is being levelheaded.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can remain levelheaded with you two going at it all the time. Seriously, you two, you’ve been friends for almost two years. I would think that you would argue less,” said Al.

“Nah,” dismissed Scorpius. “Arguing with Rose is just too much fun. I imagine I’ll be arguing with her when I’m ninety.”

“Scorp, at ninety, your hearing will probably be gone, so we’ll just argue about what you think I said versus what I did say.”

“At least I’ll still most likely have my looks at ninety,” said Scorpius, flashing a grin.

“I swear, I’m about two seconds away from hexing both of you—but whether I should fling you across the room from each other or bind you two together, I haven’t decided yet,” snapped Al, who looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

“I’m up for binding us together, if Rosie’s game,” said Scorpius.

Rose just glared at Scorpius—although Scorpius could tell she was blushing a little—while Al waved his wand, shooting the two teens across the room.

“I can still mess with Rose from over here, Al,” yelled Scorpius.

Al just grumbled something about having to babysit his two best friends even though he was the youngest.

******

The fact that Hogwarts was holding a Yule Ball held no real significance to Scorpius outside of planning the whole thing until he was presented with the opportunity to teach Rose to dance. Then, he started to warm to the idea very quickly.

He had been wrangled into dancing lessons at twelve and thirteen. He had always thought they were a waste of time, although he reluctantly admitted that they helped him play Quidditch a little more gracefully. He was a Malfoy, though, and gifted with considerable natural grace, so dancing came naturally to him.

The opportunity to teach Rose to dance was just too good to pass up. It wasn’t often that he was noticeably better than her at something—Potions, Herbology and Quidditch were the only major areas where his expertise far surpassed hers.

Plus, it gave him a chance to hold her close for longer than a hug yet still be considered socially acceptable.

He loved dancing with Rose. Years of knowing each other so well and constantly dancing around each other in verbal combat made it easy for them to fall into a natural rhythm. She was a good dancer, he found, after she had gotten past her initial clumsiness.

He had known, of course, that he and Rose would open the Yule Ball with a dance. After dancing with Rose for only a couple of sessions, however, he found that he wanted to dance with her all night, not just for one required dance.

He started working up the nerve to ask her to the dance. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was only joking with her or, perish the thought, only asking her out of pity. He wanted her to know that he truly wanted to go with her, wanted to spend time with her and their friends, wanted to hold her close and dance with her until they couldn’t feel their feet.

He wanted to go with her because she was Rose and he couldn’t see himself with anyone else.

******

In the end, though, the biggest prat in school asked her first.

He only found out that Christopher Wickham had asked Rose to the ball—and had been accepted—because Wickham started boasting about it one day after Quidditch practice.

Scorpius’ hands immediately balled into fists at Wickham’s tone of voice when talking about Rose, as though she was nothing but another prospective conquest. Since Wickham was also a Slytherin, Scorpius—and Al—had heard Wickham boast many times of the girls he had seduced and then summarily dropped.

Rose didn’t deserve that.

Fuming, yet not wanting to throw punches at the git—at least not yet—Scorpius stormed out of the locker room in search of Al, who had left earlier.

He found Al in the Slytherin common room. Al looked like he was about to doze off for some much-needed rest, but Scorpius barely acknowledged that as he stomped over to the couch, flopping down by his best friend.

Al cracked an eye open. “Mate?” he said halfheartedly before catching full sight of Scorpius’ face. “Scorp, you look like you just met the wrong end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.”

Scorpius grunted and crossed his arms, looking for all the world like a five-year old who had been told he couldn’t play with his favorite toy and had to go to bed instead.

“Someone asked Rose to the ball,” he finally huffed.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Al said. “I know you wanted to ask her.”

Al knew all about Scorpius’ feelings for Rose—had actually confronted him about them a couple of years earlier, in fact. After much badgering from Al, Scorpius had finally confessed to loving Rose.

“I planned on asking her tonight,” said Scorpius, sounding defeated. “But that’s not the worst part.”

“It’s not?” wondered Al.

“No.” Scorpius’ hands balled into fists. “The worst part is that a bloody wanker is going to be taking her because she actually said yes.”

“Who?”

“Wickham.”

Al, knowing Wickham’s reputation, had quickly angered after that, and the two of them set off to find Hugo in hopes of confronting Rose.

“You know we can’t forbid her to go to the ball with him, no matter how much we want to,” Al said.

“I know. I would never try and force Rose into doing something she didn’t want to do—I know it wouldn’t work, and it would be disrespectful as well. But hopefully, if we tell her what we know about him—at least some of it—she’ll make the decision on her own to reject his offer,” Scorpius reasoned.

They found Hugo in the Gryffindor common room—as Head Boy, Scorpius had the authority to enter the room if necessary—and set off to find Rose, who was apparently studying in the library.

The three boys found Rose just outside the library, but none of them knew what to say, especially Scorpius. He couldn’t very well walk up to her and say “Your date just wants to screw you,” no matter how true that statement might be. He wanted to throw up just thinking about it—and being so crass about the whole situation would make Rose less likely to listen to their arguments.

He finally came up with an approach, and while he couldn’t convince Rose to dump the git, he did manage to get her to promise to stay alert when it came to her date. He supposed that would have to be enough. Rose really could take care of herself, although he would prefer it if she wasn’t in situations where she had to. He admired her bravery and tenacity, but there were some situations that no one should ever have to encounter, he reasoned.

No one was surprised as him, though, when she put him on the spot for not asking her to the ball when he had the chance. Al, of course, just had to rub it in—and then tell Scorpius he was an idiot for thinking he didn’t have a chance with Rose.

******

Scorpius stubbornly remained without a date to the Yule Ball. It wasn’t like he didn’t have any willing prospects—while the number of girls in his fan club had dwindled somewhat over the years due to some of the girls finding boyfriends, there were still enough stragglers in the group that he wouldn’t have had a problem finding a date.

He honestly had no idea why some of those girls kept hanging around when he had made it clear he wasn’t interested. He hadn’t even so much as went on a date since realizing he loved Rose during their fifth year. None of the Hogwarts girls had ever been able to hold his attention for long—they were nice enough, but they were shallow and downplayed any intelligence they might have had. He had never liked that, which was one reason he was so drawn to Rose. So when other girls showed up, he adapted his father’s carefully cultivated air and tone of clipped politeness. He didn’t want to lead any of the girls on; that wouldn’t be right, and besides, he didn’t want to stir up trouble with any of the girls, because then they would be mad at him—and possibly Rose—and he wanted to avoid such a situation. He didn’t relish confrontation unless it was with Rose.

He was stubborn; he knew what he wanted, and he wanted to be with Rose. He wanted to show her how much he cared and hoped that she might care for him in return, which had happily turned out to be the case—although he was still unsure how much she really did care for him. He would pursue her relentlessly if that’s what it took to win her, because she was worth it.

******

She was absolutely _gorgeous_.

He had thought she was beautiful for quite some time, but the way she looked the night of the Yule Ball was something else.

The dress flattered her in shape as well as color, and he was surprised but pleased to see that she was wearing the rose pendant he had given her for her eighteenth birthday.

He had wondered if the gift would be too cliché, but the necklace had just screamed _her_ —understated yet lovely all the same. She had loved it, hugging him tightly in thanks, and he knew she wore it often.

He had managed to compliment her before whisking her away to the middle of the Great Hall. He had caught a glimpse of the back of her dress while walking, and his fingers immediately itched to touch her soft skin. She was captivating and enticing; he didn’t want to take his eyes off her.

When he drew her into his arms to begin the first dance, he couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his thumb in slow circles on the lowest uncovered patch of her skin. That bit of contact wasn’t enough for Scorpius, though.

He wanted to rain kisses on her neck and shoulders and down her spine to where her dress met in that alluring V just below the middle of her back.

They fell into their comfortable habit of teasing each other while twirling around on the dance floor. He loved how their friendship hadn’t diminished their need to banter or counter each other.

He beamed at her—he knew he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he found he didn’t care. If it meant that she finally realized how much she meant to him—or made her realize how much he meant to her—it was worth it.

She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek suddenly, and he was suddenly hopeful that she felt for him what he felt for her. He was very much aware that she had turned him into a sap, but she was the only one who could elicit such emotions from him. To everyone else, he was the same Malfoy he had always been, but when Rose was involved, he allowed his guard to slip.

All too soon, their second dance ended. He could tell that Rose didn’t want to leave—and he of course didn’t want her to leave—but her sense of fairness wouldn’t allow her to neglect her date.

Acquiescing, and making her promise to dance with him later, he wound up talking with Al and Alice for a few minutes until a scorned Lily had shown up. He thought of Lily as the sister he had never had, and so he offered to take her for a spin on the dance floor to cheer her up, because poor Al had two left feet and hadn’t even attempted to dance yet. Since James had graduated the year before, that left Scorpius to fill the role of surrogate brother, which he didn’t mind filling. Over the years he had grown close to many of the assorted Weasley-Potters, so much so that he considered the majority of them family.

(If he had his way, in a few years, they really would be his family. But that all depended on Rose.)

******

He wanted to throttle Wickham when Rose had told him that her date had not acted like a gentleman. He didn’t press her for details; Wickham’s reputation alone was enough for Scorpius to know that whatever the git had tried, it wasn’t respectful or wanted. Rose was a mix of angry, upset, and hurt, but he was glad to see that she wasn’t going to let it ruin her night. She was much too strong to let Wickham’s actions affect her, at least in such a public place.

At least, that’s what he thought, until Rose had gone to get drinks and Wickham’s devious plan came to light.

Scorpius had just wondered what was taking Rose so long when he heard her start yelling. He, Al, Hugo, Alice, and Lily all went to see what in the bloody blazes was going on, only to hear Wickham calmly, heartlessly tell Rose his ulterior motive for making a move on her.

Scorpius felt like he’d been punched in the gut at Wickham’s callous words. Even worse was his nonchalant tone. Al and Hugo immediately lurched forward, intent on defending Rose, but were pulled back by Alice and Lily, respectively. Scorpius, however, couldn’t move. He couldn’t believe that someone could treat Rose so cruelly, could use her in such a fashion. Even he, at his worst, had never treated Rose with such disrespect. Even when the only thing he could say about her was that she was a worthy opponent, he had held at least a modicum of respect for her wit and intelligence. Wickham, it seemed, had never seen her as more than a pawn in his plans—he really didn’t know Rose at all, Scorpius mused, if he expected Rose to be a willing participant—even unknowingly—in his scheme for power. Wickham’s later admission that he had not only just wanted her for her connections, but also for sex, made his stomach churn. Rose deserved so much more than to be just another conquest. She deserved to be loved and cherished—and he wanted to be the one to do so.

He might have wanted to hex the prat from here to kingdom come, but he was more intrigued by how Rose would respond. He wasn’t disappointed.

He was proud of Rose for standing up for herself and putting that prat in his place—not that he would have expected anything less from the fiery Gryffindor.

(Plus, he would be lying if he said that the sight of Rose in an elegant dress laying in to her date for his crass behavior wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen.)

He was especially impressed with the end of her rant. Not for the first time, he found himself thinking what a formidable and successful lawyer she could be if she had chosen that profession. She would have criminals shaking in their boots, that was for sure. _“I am Rose, and that should be enough,”_ she had said.

And she was.

******

Rose’s form of punishment wasn’t nearly violent enough for Scorpius’ taste, but it was amusing nonetheless. He could tell she was trying to hold herself together, so when Al and Hugo had stepped in to give Wickham the third degree after Rose had left, he had quickly told Lily and Alice he was going to see about Rose. They had shared a knowing look before nodding, and he went in search of his Rose.

He found her crying, which both disturbed and upset him. He had not seen her cry since his spider prank in fourth year. He had immediately gathered her to him, trying to comfort her. He didn’t think Wickham was worth even one tear, but didn’t say so. Rose, however, didn’t seem as upset about the fact that it was Wickham who had been so cruel than that someone had had the audacity to use her in such a way at all.

Scorpius dropped one of his innumerable hints that he loved her, but of course Rose didn’t pick up on it. When she had told him he could “say it,” he had immediately clammed up from fear. He thought she was telling him that he could tell her that he loved her, and although he wanted nothing more than to tell her so, he wasn’t able to get the words out. It wasn’t the right time to drop that bombshell on her, especially when she was feeling vulnerable. Plus, he lacked the Gryffindor bravery that she and her family seemed to have in abundance.

He inwardly sighed in relief when she had told him he could say “I told you so,” but was a little hurt that she would think that he would say something so insensitive. He might be known for bluntness and rudeness much of the time, but not when it mattered.

Not when it came to Rose’s feelings.

He might not have been able to tell her he loved her, but he couldn’t help but brush his lips across her forehead. She had to know just how loved and important she was, not just to him, but to her family and friends. They were the ones whose opinion mattered.

******

He had finally gotten her to go back inside and resume dancing with him. Wickham spun around in the air for much of the night; apparently even the professors decided he deserved such a punishment.

(Later, Wickham would be kicked off the Quidditch team, was given detentions with Filch for the rest of the year, and was ostracized by most of Hogwarts for his treatment of Rose. There would be no Ministry path for him now—Rose had been sure to inform her mother and Uncle Harry that if Wickham came applying for jobs, they were to immediately turn him away and not even give him a second’s thought.)

Scorpius and Rose, meanwhile, spun around on the dance floor in each other’s arms for most of the rest of the night. Scorpius had cheekily steered them close to the punch table once, acting like he was going to twirl Rose right into the refreshments, but she caught on quickly and gave him one of her famous glares. He had just chuckled and twirled them away before the refreshments ended up on him instead.

He held her closer than before during their last dance, giving in again to the temptation to press his lips to her head, this time to her hair. She felt right in his arms.

He could tell she was deep in thought, but didn’t disturb her. He was thinking, too, although his thoughts revolved around what it might be like to finally throw caution to the wind and snog her senseless, to get lost in her touch and taste.

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his reverie by her asking him a question that stopped him in his tracks.

“Scorp, will you come with me?”

******

He followed her out of the Great Hall into the hallway, to the spot where he had comforted her earlier—near the same spot, he realized with a jolt, where he had begged for her forgiveness after the marshmallow spider prank in fourth year.

She turned to him, and she looked nervous—why, he didn’t know. She looked at the floor, hands nervously twisting in front of her. He had never seen her so anxious—not even when they were waiting for O.W.L. scores. He kept silent, allowing her to process her thoughts.

Finally, she looked up at him and three words suddenly tumbled out of her mouth. The phrase began with “I” and ended with “you,” but there was no hate between them, not anymore.

In fact, it was on the opposite side of that fine line from hate, and Scorpius, who was somewhere between shocked and hopeful, could only manage one word:

“Really?”

She looked at him, blushed, and nodded. He reached for her, but she caught his hand—apparently she had something more to say.

“Wait,” she said, and his heart sank until she continued. “I don’t want you to think that this is some kind of spur-of-the-moment thing stemming just from tonight. I’ve felt this way about you for a while, Scorp, but I didn’t allow myself to admit it. I knew that if I admitted it, there would be no going back, although I think I was— _am_ —too far gone for going back to even be an option.

“This has been coming on so gradually that I think I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.

“I just wanted to make sure that you knew that this isn’t just some one-time thing that will get pushed aside. It’s you, Scorp. It’s you and no one else.”

He didn’t know what to say—couldn’t say anything, really.

So he reached for her again, tugging her to him, his mouth coming down over hers.

He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and she responded with equal fervor. His fingers tangled in her hair while his other hand caressed her silk-encased hip. She locked her fingers in his hair, pulling his face down even more, and her other hand traveled up and down his chest.

This was the best feeling ever. He was drowning in sensation, in the feeling of Rose against him, the pressure of her mouth on his, the feeling of her hands in his hair, the pleased sounds she made as he poured everything he had into that kiss.

It was better than two dozen chocolate frogs, better than playing in his first Quidditch game, better than his internship, better than earning the Head Boy badge. It was everything.

 _She_ was everything.

They continued kissing passionately (because when had they ever done anything by halves when it came to each other?), but their need for oxygen took over. He reluctantly pulled back and rested his forehead on hers. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling. She had never looked more beautiful to Scorpius than she did right then, cheeks blooming with her namesake, lips swollen from his kisses.

He grinned back and said (as if that kiss—and everything he had done or said for the past couple of years—wasn’t proof enough):

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Please take the time to leave a review; I would really appreciate it. Your comments keep me motivated to write and make me feel like I'm doing a good job.
> 
> This may be the end of the Hogwarts years, but it's not the end yet. The next (and last) chapter is a bonus chapter set five years into the future. I've also got a few ideas for companion pieces to this story that I'm excited about.
> 
> Next chapter: in which there is lots of fluff


	11. in which there is lots of fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks-the last chapter. This is bittersweet, since I have really enjoyed writing this fic, but it's also the first multichapter fic I have ever finished, regardless of fandom. I've absolutely loved writing Scorp and Rose and sharing my story with you, and I've enjoyed reading your responses. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, or will review in the future.
> 
> A few reviewers have asked what Scorpius' memory was that allowed him to produce such a powerful Patronus back in fifth year. I never did incorporate that into the story, but in my mind, Scorpius' memory was of the time when he realized that Rose would forgive him for that nasty prank in fourth year and that they could go back to bickering and teasing each other, because even then he knew he wouldn't be able to deal without her in his life.
> 
> Thanks to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus, the most amazing beta readers ever. Thanks for going on this journey with me.
> 
> Without further ado, here it is:

Bonus Chapter: Five Years Later

_:in which there is lots of fluff:_

_or_   
_:_

_in which ferrets mate with weasels:_

 

It really hadn’t surprised many people when Rose and Scorpius started dating soon after the Yule Ball in their seventh year. Even less surprising was Scorpius’ proposal three years later. By that time, everyone had come to accept their relationship—it was evident to all how much the two loved each other.

Rose had become a top crime/investigative reporter at the _Daily Prophet_ after taking a couple of law classes to strengthen her knowledge of the law. Scorpius had gone through Healer training and was currently working as a general Healer at St. Mungo’s.

A year and a half after their marriage, Rose became pregnant. Both were excited at the prospect of becoming parents—Scorpius had positively lit up when Rose told him the news. Both sets of prospective grandparents were anxious to meet their first grandchild as well, especially Ron, who was over the moon.

At nearly nine months pregnant, however, Rose was increasingly ready to give birth. Carrying a Weasley-Malfoy was exhausting.

“I feel like a beached whale,” she complained one night while resting against Scorpius’ chest on their bed. Scorpius’ hands entwined with Rose’s as they flitted over her swollen belly.

“You look beautiful, Rose,” Scorpius said from behind her.

“Have you thought of any more names?” Rose asked Scorpius as he put his chin on her shoulder.

“If it’s a boy, I like the name Antares. It’s the heart of the Scorpius constellation.”

“I like it,” Rose mused. “It fits. Heart of Scorpius—because any child we have is going to be wrapped around your little finger.”

Scorpius chuckled, drawing lazy circles on Rose’s stomach with his thumb.

“I see you don’t deny it,” Rose said, turning her head to look at her husband and grinning slyly.

“That’s because it’s the truth. No need to deny it,” Scorpius murmured. Rose saw his jaw set; he was worrying again—had been worrying off and on, in fact, ever since Rose had announced her pregnancy.

Not for the first time, Rose endeavored to reassure the man she loved. “You’re going to make a great dad, Scorp,” she said softly. “I mean it. You already love our baby so much and he or she isn’t even here yet. Don’t you dare start second-guessing yourself,” she admonished, squeezing his hand. They’d been over this before; the failings of his grandfather and to a lesser extent his father had no bearings on his own ability to parent. Scorpius was not a Malfoy of the past, and Rose told him so.

“Of course I’m not. I married you, didn’t I?” Scorpius chuckled again, pressing a kiss to Rose’s cheek. “I love you, Rose. Thank you,” he mumbled against her cheek.

“I love you too, Scorp,” Rose answered, kissing him just below his ear.

The baby kicked, obviously wanting some attention. “This is definitely your child. Can’t stand to be ignored,” sighed Rose affectionately.

Scorpius tapped her stomach. “I love you too, little one.”

The baby kept kicking at the sound of Scorpius’ voice and tried to move around. As there was not much room for the baby to move, it just served to make Rose more uncomfortable. She shifted in Scorpius’ arms. “I wish this baby would just come already. But of course it’s a Malfoy-Weasley-Granger hybrid; he or she is bound to be the most stubborn child ever. Won’t even let the Healers get a good look to confirm whether it’s male or female. And of course he or she will come whenever they’re good and ready—no matter that I’m ready now!”

“When you married me, you knew what you were getting into. Don’t be so surprised.”

“I know,” Rose complained, tilting her head back to rest more comfortably on Scorpius’ shoulder. She winced as a particularly strong kick poked her ribs. “Your child is playing a game of Quidditch in there or something,” Rose groaned.

“My child? Rosie, I was under the impression that this was our child.”

“It’s your child when he or she is giving me grief.”

The baby finally settled down some and Rose could finally ask something that had been on her mind for a while—and she’d finally figured out how to phrase such a potentially loaded question. “Would you prefer to have a boy or a girl?”

“I honestly don’t care. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy,” Scorpius said, kissing the side of Rose’s head.

“Besides,” Scorpius continued, “You’ve already made it clear that you’re certain we’re having a girl.”

“I told you, I have a feeling that this baby is a girl. And I want to name her Athena.”

Rose thought a minute. She knew that Scorpius wasn’t as traditional as his family was—obviously not, he’d fallen in love with and married her—but he was still a Malfoy, and tradition still had some bearing on his life. She asked her next question. “Are you concerned about whether we’ll have a Malfoy heir?”

Scorpius looked surprised, but answered anyway. “Not really. I’m sure we’ll have other kids. You are a Weasley, after all,” he reasoned, moving to kiss Rose’s neck.

She sighed at the sensation. “Scorp, please, stop…”

“What? I thought you liked it when I kissed your neck,” he murmured against her skin, making her shiver.

“I do. But that’s how we got in this situation—or did you forget?” Rose answered, gesturing to her stomach.

“Oh, I remember,” said Scorpius. Rose couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smirking suggestively. “But that’s yet another reason to have more than one kid—aside from the fact that being an only child can be very lonely.”

“What’s that?” Rose asked.

“We get to have fun trying,” her husband replied, his smirk catching against the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

_“Scorpius!”_

******

**_Two weeks later:_ **

“SCORPIUS!”

Scorpius was jolted awake by the sound of his wife screaming. “What?” he exclaimed, jumping out of bed.

Rose’s voice came from the bathroom. “The baby’s coming,” she replied in a small voice tinged with pain and fear.

Scorpius ran to the bathroom door. Rose’s face was twisted in pain, a puddle at her feet. He quickly kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. “You have the hospital bag packed, right?” He was trying to stay calm, but he was wracked with nervous anticipation and trepidation.

“Yes. It’s on the table by the front door.”

“We need to let our parents know,” Scorpius told Rose as she slowly made her way back into their bedroom.

“Hand me my phone and I’ll text my mother while you send a Patronus to your parents,” she said, breathing heavily.

“How fast are the pains coming?” he asked after sending the Patronus on its way.

“They’re still fairly far apart. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” said Rose.

He smiled at her. “Stubborn Rosie. Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

“Face it,” she said, smiling back. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said, chuckling at his wife, who was trying her best to hide the fact that she was flinching from the discomfort.

After quickly getting Rose into a fresh set of clothes, Scorpius and Rose apparated to St. Mungo’s.

******

After what seemed an inordinate amount of time to Scorpius, Rose had been assigned a room and a Mediwitch to check on her progress. Scorpius had been informed that both sets of prospective grandparents had arrived, as well as Hugo, Al, and Alice.

Scorpius had been surprised that more of Rose’s family hadn’t shown up, but they all sent various notes by owl explaining why they couldn’t be there, but that they all wanted news of Rose and the baby as soon as possible. Arthur and Molly had sent word that they would come the next day if the baby had been born by then, and Rose’s Granger grandparents had sent a note through Hermione expressing their joy and requesting lots of pictures, since they wouldn’t be able to see their great-grandchild until Rose and the baby were back at home.

James and Fred, who had started working as apprentices of sorts at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes after graduation and were poised to be the next owners, had sent along a joint note wishing Rose well and saying that they had a new line of WWW baby products ready to be tried out on their newest cousin.

Scorpius really didn’t know what to think about that. He had no doubt that James and Fred had something up their sleeves as usual, but didn’t relish the fact that they had apparently selected his unborn son or daughter to be the test case for their products.

He didn’t even want to know what Rose would think—or do.

She had already snapped at the Mediwitch who had come to check on her earlier.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” the Mediwitch had said kindly as she entered the room. “How are you feeling?”

Rose glared at the woman. “I’m trying to push a human being out of my body and I feel like I’m being split in two. How do you think I’m feeling?”

The Mediwitch just chuckled, to Scorpius’ surprise. He was used to Rose’s sharp tongue, but the same couldn’t be said for the staff in the childbirth wing.

The woman must have seen Scorpius’ surprise written on his face, because she chuckled again and said, “Mr. Malfoy, I’ve helped so many women birth their babies that nothing your wife could say would faze me. Even if she is a Weasley.”

******

Except for Rose’s outburst at the Mediwitch, she had held herself to just moaning and groaning as she fought through the pain. Scorpius didn’t know how she could stand it; he would have been reduced to a blubbering mess within the first hour.

The Mediwitch came back to check Rose’s labor. Stating that Rose was about halfway dilated, she took another look at the young woman lying in the bed, groaning from the pain. “Mrs. Malfoy,” she began kindly, “No one is going to think any less of you if you channel your pain into screaming. Holding all of that tension in won’t help matters. You can go ahead and let it out.”

Rose’s red face scrunched, and then she started bellowing, releasing hours of pent-up pain in a long scream that shook Scorpius to his core.

She screamed like a Hungarian Horntail, he managed to notice before concern for his wife took over. “Can’t you give her anything for the pain?” he asked the Mediwitch. Although Scorpius had been trained as a Healer, he worked in the general ward and had no training in childbirth management.

The Mediwitch shook her head. “She’s too far gone in her labor now. She’ll just have to keep fighting through the pain. She’s done an admirable job so far.”

Scorpius agreed, but had something else to ask. “I’m guessing that some of her pain can’t be transferred over to me?”

The Mediwitch’s face softened at Scorpius’ question, but she shook her head again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy. There’s no way we can do that at this point. I know you’re a Healer yourself,” she continued, “but don’t attempt to draw your wife’s pain to yourself on your own. She will be just fine. She’s a strong one.”

“I know she is,” Scorpius muttered. He wasn’t so much worried about his wife—he knew she was in good hands—as about himself. He wasn’t good at dealing with Rose’s pain.

******

Rose continued to scream at intervals. She clenched Scorpius’ hand so hard that his normally pale skin looked translucent from lack of blood flow. He murmured to her quietly, smoothing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

Rose’s labor progressed quickly after reaching the halfway point, and the contractions started hitting her harder. After a particularly violent one, she screamed, “I hate you, Scorpius Malfoy!”

Scorpius jolted at her words, and the returning Mediwitch chuckled as she entered. “Well, _I_ love _you_ , Rose Malfoy,” he whispered, placing a kiss to her temple, hoping it would calm her down somewhat. “And I know you love me too. You wouldn’t have married me if you didn’t.”

“You better be glad I love you,” Rose grumbled. “I’m about to have your child, for Merlin’s sake.”

“I’m thankful for you every day,” Scorpius said simply. “No one else could put up with me as well as you do.” Rose rolled her eyes, but a smile flitted across her face before another contraction hit.

The Mediwitch cleared her throat upon checking Rose. “Mr. Malfoy, I have to ask—it’s hospital policy,” she began. “Would you prefer to step outside while your wife gives birth?”

“I’m not leaving,” Scorpius said firmly. He was a Healer, for Merlin’s sake. He could deal with watching his wife give birth. He didn’t want to leave Rose’s side, and he wanted to be one of the first to see their new baby.

“I thought as much,” said the Mediwitch.

Scorpius nodded, raising his and Rose’s intertwined hands. “I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to,” he said.

“Not willing to risk the wrath of your formidable wife?”

“She’s a Granger-Weasley, so no. Plus, I’ve been pushing her buttons for years and I know by now when I’ve gone too far. Plus, I can’t wait to meet my child.” The Mediwitch chuckled and inclined her head in acknowledgement, then addressed Rose. “Mrs. Malfoy, you’ve reached full dilation. Are you ready to begin pushing?”

Rose managed to raise an eyebrow at the older woman. “I’ve been ready for the last month!”

Scorpius held tight to Rose’s hand, stroking it gently with his thumb as she strained. “All right, Mrs. Malfoy, the head is almost out,” said the Mediwitch from her position at the end of the bed. “No wonder you’ve been in such pain—the baby’s head is quite large.”

“Of course the baby’s head is large,” Rose grumbled. “She or he is a Malfoy, after all. Big heads, the lot of them.”

“May I remind you, love, that you’re a Malfoy now?” Scorpius couldn’t help but ask as Rose pushed again.

“Only by marriage. I’m still a Granger-Weasley through and through,” she said feistily.

“No doubt about that,” Scorpius mumbled, then said louder, because he couldn’t resist: “You never know, the baby could have inherited your big brain. That could account for the large head too, you know.”

Rose managed to whack him on the arm for his impertinence before another, even stronger contraction hit.

******

Three more pushes, and Rose and Scorpius’ baby entered the world. The Mediwitch held the baby up so that the new parents could get the first look at their child. The little one sported red hair and, as Rose and Scorpius watched with awe at the tiny human they had created, the infant’s eyes opened, looking around for a few moments, assessing its new world, before opening its mouth wide and squalling.

“It’s a girl,” the Mediwitch announced to the proud parents.

“And just like her mother, apparently,” Scorpius said.

After the baby’s vitals were checked and the cord was cut, the Mediwitch handed the little girl off to Scorpius, who took the small bundle carefully, afraid he would break his little daughter, who had closed her eyes and was dozing.

He took a closer look at her—she looked just like Rose, he thought, although she had the pointed chin of the Malfoys. Red hair, pink face, delicate features, impossibly tiny fingers poking out from the blanket.

He was instantly in love.

He sat down next to his wife, kissing her forehead in awe and gratitude. “ _Rose,_ ” he breathed. “Look at her. She’s perfect.”

He tentatively touched a small, soft hand with his index finger, and the baby shifted and yawned slightly before settling back down.

“Of course she’s perfect, Scorp, she’s ours,” Rose said, equally in awe at her small daughter.

The child in question opened her eyes then, and Scorpius was struck by their color: blue-gray, a perfect mix of her parents’ eyes.

“Look at her eyes, Rose,” Scorpius said.

“They’re beautiful,” Rose breathed, hands twitching to hold her child. “Blue and gray, Weasley and Malfoy fused together.

“She’s only minutes old, and already I love her so much,” Rose went on. “It’s amazing how someone you don’t even know can capture so much of your heart.”

Scorpius knew just what she meant. He felt the same way.

******

A few minutes later, Scorpius handed Rose their daughter, and Rose got lost in cataloguing the little one’s features as much as Scorpius had. Scorpius just watched his wife and daughter, thanking whoever heard him that he had gotten so lucky.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Rose’s temple. “I love you, Rose,” he said again. He was in awe of the obviously tired woman sitting next to him—she had birthed their daughter, worked through immense pain, and hadn’t collapsed yet.

“Love you too, Scorp,” Rose answered.

“And you, as well, my little girl,” Scorpius said, stroking his daughter’s cheek.

Rose looked at him, and her eyes were swimming with happy tears. “Athena,” she said softly. “Her name is Athena.”

Scorpius smiled. He remembered their conversation from a couple of weeks earlier; the name had grown on him. “It’ll be a hard name to live up to, being named after the goddess of wisdom,” Scorpius mused, “but if anyone is up to the challenge, it will be a Weasley-Malfoy.”

“Maybe we’ll have a Ravenclaw in the family yet,” Rose said.

She turned her attention back to her daughter, but leaned into Scorpius’ side. “I can’t wait to see the person you will grow to be,” she addressed Athena softly. “Your daddy and I love you so much already, and so will the rest of the family, once they meet you.

“Your daddy already thinks you hung the moon and stars. Your grandpa Ron won’t be able to deny you anything, and don’t you dare take that for granted—I know I have before, and I regret it. While your grandpa Draco may look stern and cold, he’ll have a soft spot for you, and I know your daddy and I will have to reprimand him for sneaking you sweets.

“Your grandma Hermione has already been scouring London for books to read to you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she bought out an entire store,” Rose continued, chuckling. “And your grandma Astoria will be just thrilled at having a granddaughter—the first Malfoy girl born in decades. She’ll be wrangling you to help in her garden as soon as you can walk.

“You’ll never want for love—or attention, as big as this family is. We love you, Athena Malfoy.”

******

An hour later, after Rose had fed the baby and had taken a small catnap, she had woken up and told Scorpius to bring the new grandparents in to see their granddaughter. Scorpius had briefly gone to the waiting room to alert the family of Athena’s arrival while Rose had been napping. Everyone had been overjoyed, of course, and couldn’t wait to meet the newest addition to the Weasley-Malfoy family.

Scorpius really shouldn’t have been surprised at Rose’s insistence that his parents and hers come to see the baby before she was taken to the magical nursery. Rose had already insisted to various Mediwitches that little Athena would stay with her and Scorpius for the time being, and no one had had the heart to deny Rose Weasley Malfoy, daughter of two-thirds of the Golden Trio, fiery Gryffindor, respected and award-winning reporter, and wife to Scorpius himself, a respected Healer in his own right.

To be honest, Scorpius didn’t want to cross her himself. Love of her life or no, he didn’t want to give his tired, exasperated wife another reason to hex him.

So, dropping a kiss to both his wife and daughter’s foreheads, he went back to the waiting room. No one noticed him at first; his mother and Hermione were deep in conversation, his mother’s hand clasping his father’s and Ron’s arm slung around Hermione’s shoulders. Ron and Draco were pointedly ignoring each other for the time being; they were civil to each other, but years of animosity—at least for them—were hard to overcome. Draco even got along better with Hermione than he did with Ron, which amused Scorpius’ father and angered Rose’s. Astoria and Hermione were good at managing their unruly husbands when needed; Ron always visibly softened with a glare from his wife—he really would do anything for her—and Draco did the same, although his respect for his wife’s feelings on his relationship with his in-law weren’t quite as apparent.

Al, who had been talking with Alice and Hugo, was the first to notice Scorpius. “Hey, Scorp! How are Rosie and the baby?”

“They’re just fine,” Scorpius said with pride. “I think Rose needs to rest more, but she’s adamant that she wants Mum and Dad and Hermione and Ron to meet the baby before she even thinks about going back to sleep.”

“Typical Rosie,” said Al with a laugh. “Wait a minute, does that mean I don’t get to see her yet?”

“Hush, Al,” Alice chided her husband of one year. “You’ll get your turn soon enough. Honestly, the way you’ve been going on and on about it, you’d think the new baby was partly yours.”

Scorpius and Hugo laughed as Al exaggeratedly pouted but hushed. Scorpius turned to the two couples sitting across from Al, Hugo, and Alice. They were looking at him expectantly; Ron, he could tell, was about to burst at the seams from excitement at getting to meet his first grandchild.

“Mum, Dad, Hermione, Ron, Rose and I want you to be the first to meet our daughter.”

As they headed down the hallway, Scorpius could hear Al say, “So if Scorp’s my honorary brother, does that make me the honorary uncle?”

******

Before they reached the room where Rose and the baby were, Draco stopped Scorpius with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son.”

Scorpius was confused. “What for, Dad?”

“You’re a good man, Scorpius. You’ve already accomplished so much. You’re a respected Healer, you have a wonderful wife, and a new daughter. You’ve already done more good in your life than I ever have.”

“Dad…” Scorpius didn’t know what to say. It was no secret that Draco’s past was still a heavy weight on his shoulders. He had done his best to overcome the damage done during his formative years, and in Scorpius’ opinion, he had done an admirable job, but the war had definitely changed him. Scorpius remembered being a little kid and hearing his dad scream from the nightmares. He knew he didn’t know everything his dad had seen or experienced during those horrible years, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t even think his mother knew everything—his dad tried to keep them from anything he deemed too vile or horrific.

“Dad, you know how you told me that even though I loved my child while Rose was still pregnant, that when the baby finally came, it wouldn’t compare to what I would feel then?”

Draco nodded, still seemingly lost in thought.

“Well, you were right,” said Scorpius. The corner of Draco’s mouth lifted in a half-smirk at his son’s words. Scorpius pointedly ignored it and continued. “The moment I held her, everything just seemed to shift. It was hard to believe that someone who was only minutes old could be so important. She’s totally dependent upon me and Rose, and it’s very humbling and scary.”

Draco nodded again. “I felt the same way the day you were born. I was absolutely terrified. You were so small and helpless. I had no idea how to be a father; I barely knew how to be a husband.” His features twisted for a minute before speaking again. “Lucius was never much of a father to me, but you know that. I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps with you, but was at a loss as to how to proceed. Then your mother—Merlin knows what I did to deserve her—told me that she had no idea how to be a mother, and that we would figure it out together. Somehow, I guess we did, because you turned out all right.”

Scorpius was unused to seeing and hearing this much emotion from his father, but the birth of a child—or grandchild in Draco’s case—was a highly emotional event. Scorpius knew that what his father had just told him had been weighing on his mind for quite some time, and he was touched that his father thought he could trust Scorpius with such details.

“Look, Dad, don’t beat yourself up over what is in the past. A lot has changed in the last few decades. Your daughter-in-law is a Granger-Weasley, after all, and that doesn’t seem to bother you in the least.

“Honestly, Dad, I couldn’t have asked for a better father. You’ve done your best with what you were given, and it obviously worked, because as you said, I turned out all right.” Scorpius couldn’t help but flash the Malfoy smirk at his father, who smirked back, clapped his son on the shoulder, and went into the room.

******

The others had already gone in, but had apparently just entered. They were all admiring the baby, but Rose was stubbornly refusing to tell them the name until Scorpius and Draco had arrived.

When Rose saw her husband, she smiled widely, and Scorpius went to her side, drawing her to him and kissing her temple. “Oh, good, you’re here,” she whispered. “I thought Dad was going to resort to his Auror tactics to get the name out of me.”

Scorpius chuckled. “Best not keep them all waiting, then.”

Rose smiled at him, squeezing his hand, and then addressed the four older wizards who were looking at the couple expectantly. “Mum, Daddy, Draco, Astoria,” Rose said, nodding in their direction, “Scorpius and I would like you to meet our daughter—Athena Jean Malfoy.”

Rose immediately looked at Hermione to gauge her reaction to her granddaughter’s middle name. She had asked Scorpius earlier if he would mind honoring her mother in such a way, and Scorpius had thought it was an excellent idea.

“Really, Rosie?” Hermione said, eyes sparkling and beaming at her only daughter.

“Of course, Mum,” Rose said. “We tried to honor the Black family tradition as best we could. I know Athena isn’t the name of a constellation, but it is the name of a Greek goddess, and since Scorpius’ middle name is that of a Titan—and since we broke Malfoy tradition by having a girl first anyway—we thought it would be a fitting way to name our daughter.”

“Plus, it’s an allusion to your middle name,” said Hermione.

“That too,” said Rose Minerva Weasley Malfoy. “And Scorp and I thought we would carry on what seems to have become a Weasley-Potter family tradition—naming our children after people who have meant so much to us. We’ll do the same with every child we have—combining a name in the Black tradition with a name in the Weasley-Potter tradition.”

“A wonderful decision, Rose, Scorpius,” said Hermione. “Bridging the old and the relatively new to create something entirely your own—it’s commendable and fitting for the two of you. And I’m not just saying that because I am the first to be honored in such a way. I’m honored, Rosie, Scorpius, really.”

Rose beamed at her mother and held her daughter out. “Would you like to be the first to hold her, then, Mum?”

Hermione nodded, and Rose passed her daughter to her mother. Hermione smiled at the little face peeking out from the blanket. “She’s beautiful—she looks just like you, Rose. The Weasley genes are definitely strong in this one—yet she has that stubborn Malfoy chin.”

“She’s stubborn all the way around, I can already tell,” said Rose.

“Of course she is,” said Scorpius. “She’s part Granger, part Weasley, part Malfoy—all of that stubbornness rolled into one package is bound to be a volatile combination. I don’t know if the Greengrass kindness will be enough to overcome that.”

Ron sat down next to his daughter. “How are you feeling, Rosie?” he asked, stroking her hair out of her eyes.

“I’m exhausted, but so happy, Daddy,” said Rose.

Ron smiled at her, and then to everyone’s surprise, started to cry a little.

“Daddy?” Rose said, concerned.

“Oh, I’m all right, Rosie. It’s just not every day that your baby girl has a baby girl of her own. It seems like just yesterday that you were as small as Athena there, and now you’re grown up and married and a mother…”

Rose smiled affectionately at the most important man in her life after Scorpius. “I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy,” she said. “I told you that the day I got married, and it’s still true now.”

“Good,” said Ron, leaning over to kiss Rose’s hair.

“I’m just glad you no longer have the emotional range of a teaspoon, Ronald,” said Hermione, shifting Athena around in her arms to squeeze her husband’s shoulder briefly. Ron started at her words and then chuckled. “Rose, he tried to hide it from you as best he could, but the day you got married, he was an absolute mess,” Hermione said.

“I was,” Ron agreed. “Scorpius, you’ll understand someday when Athena is old enough to get married.”

Scorpius paled at the thought, making Rose, Hermione, and Ron laugh.

After Ron had held his granddaughter, beaming the entire time and proclaiming that he had the most perfect grandchild in the world, it was Astoria’s turn. “It’s been so long since I’ve held a child this small,” she said, smiling at the little bundle in her arms. “She is absolutely adorable, Rose, Scorp. I can already tell we are going to have lots of fun. It’s been a long time since there was a little girl in the Malfoy family.” Astoria looked like she was planning playdates already as well as trying to remember how she and Draco had baby-proofed the manor when Scorpius was small.

“You just want more help in your garden, Mum,” Scorpius teased, chuckling.

“Maybe I do,” said Astoria. “Your father’s no help, and since you got married, I haven’t been able to find someone interested and talented enough to help. Maybe little Athena inherited the Greengrass green thumb.”

“My dear,” said Draco, looking a little nonplussed, “You know I’ve always been interested in your gardens. I plotted one out for you as a wedding present, remember?”

“I remember,” said Astoria. “But I do wonder sometimes if you’re not more interested in the produce itself—and the food that comes from it—than in the actual process itself.” She smirked at her husband, who sighed. “Never did care for Herbology, you know that. But I can’t deny that your garden produces good food. Always have liked apples,” he muttered, making Astoria and even Hermione laugh. “Plus it keeps you happy, so I figured it’s a win-win.”

Astoria just shook her head affectionately at her husband’s statement and handed her granddaughter off to him, heading over to talk to Hermione about baby-proofing large houses and how much the two would spoil their granddaughter.

Draco held his granddaughter with trepidation. “She’s not going to break, Dad,” Scorpius said, moving to his father’s side.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t worried about holding her yourself, son,” Draco muttered.

“Yes, I was,” Scorpius admitted a little reluctantly. “But you’ve done this before.”

“Doesn’t make it any less scary,” said Draco, peering into his granddaughter’s face. “Granger was right—she did get the Malfoy chin, but other than that, she looks just like your Rose. Never thought I would see a Malfoy with anything other than blond hair, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

“You didn’t think your son would ever marry a Weasley, either, I suspect,” said Scorpius, smirking.

“Not when you first went to Hogwarts, no, but your mother and I realized around your sixth year that it was likely. You never were very good at hiding how you felt about Rose, whether you thought she was annoying or you were head over heels for her.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened—had he really been that obvious?

Draco just chuckled and walked over to the rest of the group—he had been standing next to the wall since entering the room earlier. “Congratulations to you both,” he said to Rose. “You have a fine little girl here.”

“Thank you,” Rose said. Scorpius could tell she was fighting sleep but was determined to stay awake just a little longer. His stubborn Rose would never change, it seemed.

Draco handed Athena back to Rose and, surprisingly, turned to address Ron. “I know there’s not much we agree on, Weasel, but I think we can make an exception in this case.”

“What’s that, Malfoy?” said Ron, stiffening slightly in his seat next to Rose.

“Our granddaughter is going to be spoiled rotten.”

To everyone’s surprise, Ron let out a bark of laughter. “You’ve got that right, Malfoy.” Draco nodded curtly in acknowledgement, but Ron wasn’t finished. “And if she turns out to be rotten, it’s all your fault.”

“Ronald!” Hermione chided, whacking her husband on the shoulder. “Be nice. The man has changed. He had to, or else he wouldn’t have raised such a fine son.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione’s words. “Never thought I’d hear you defend me, Granger, but thank you.”

Hermione nodded in return. “Won’t do for the two of you to get into a fight in front of your granddaughter. Like it or not, you two are in-laws, and now you have a little girl to set an example for.”

Scorpius was highly amused at Hermione’s miniature rant—she sounded just like Rose. Apparently Draco was amused as well—Scorpius could tell, although he doubted anyone else but his mother could—but Astoria broke in before anyone else could say anything. “Hermione’s right. Please try and put your schoolboy rivalry at the back of your mind, Draco. You get along well enough with Harry and Hermione now—at least try and make an effort. The two of you are acting like children.”

Hermione laughed at Astoria’s assessment of the situation. “We could have used your ability to diffuse your husband’s moods back at Hogwarts. I knew I liked you for a reason, Astoria.” She fake-whispered the next sentence, apparently meaning her husband to hear every word. “Ron never did fully grow up, you know. He is still one of the biggest kids at Christmas and he’s pushing fifty.”

Ron and Draco looked a little put out at their wives’ exasperated amusement at their behavior, but didn’t say anything else. He supposed they weren’t willing to risk the wrath of their wives, especially in public—something Scorpius understood entirely, as he felt the same way when it came to Rose sometimes.

Rose, as it was, couldn’t hide her yawn anymore. “Oh, Rosie, I’m sorry we’ve stayed so long, you need your rest. We’re just so excited,” said Hermione.

“I wanted you all to meet her as soon as possible, Mum. I really don’t know how you did it—having me and Hugo. This is more tiring than Quidditch ever was—and I think that bothers me slightly more than the pain.”

“Your body just exerted itself well over its normal threshold of pain, Rose,” Hermione responded gently. “You didn’t have any magical help, either—I at least had a little something to take the edge off with both you and your brother. You did marvelously, and you have a wonderful baby girl to be proud of. Don’t chastise yourself for being tired; it’s a normal response to this type of exertion.”

Rose smiled tiredly at her mother, who reached over and stroked her daughter’s hair. “I don’t know how you did it either, Astoria,” she said. “Tell me, are all Malfoy babies born with big heads?”

Astoria laughed. “I also had a little magical help, Rose, and like Hermione, I think you did an excellent job dealing with an all-natural labor. And yes, Scorpius’ head was fairly big when it he was born,” she said.

Rose chuckled. “That explains a lot,” she joked.

“But according to my mother-in-law, Draco’s head was the biggest of them all,” Astoria went on, adopting her husband’s smirk at his expense.

“Now that does explain a lot,” said Ron. He reflexively flinched—apparently expecting Hermione to whack him again—but his wife was laughing along with Astoria.

“I’m glad you all are getting along, but could you go continue playing nice outside?” Scorpius said bluntly. “Rose really needs to sleep; I don’t know how she’s managed to stay awake this long.”

“Of course, Scorp,” said Astoria, kissing her son’s cheek and patting Rose’s hand. “Congratulations, dear. Enjoy this time while Athena is small—she’ll grow up so quickly.”

Rose nodded, and after everyone had said goodbye, Rose and Scorpius were left with their little Athena. Rose stroked her daughter’s cheek and nestled her into the crook of her arm. She looked at Scorpius, who had taken her father’s place by her side, and leaned into him again, closing her eyes.

Just before she drifted off to sleep, he heard her say three words that he would never get tired of hearing as long as he lived:

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope you all enjoyed this final chapter. Did things turn out how you expected? Did anything surprise you-Rose and Scorp having a girl first, or the former enemies-now in-laws-now getting along, perhaps?
> 
> Please take the time to leave a final review. I would love to know your thoughts on how this story ended.
> 
> I have three companion pieces planned at the moment, and plan to get started on the first of them soon. It will be a two-shot called "Meet the Parents." If you're intrigued, please follow and/or keep an eye out!
> 
> Thanks for all your support!


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